[ Every part of Alec is telling him this is a bad idea. He hates Shinra as a general rule - no one company, no one man should have that kind of power, even if it was under the guise of bettering life for everyone. Alec knew better.
So when none other than the Vice fucking President of Shinra Electric Power Company came a-calling, Alec's first impulse was to tell him to shove it. Okay, no, that had been his second impulse. His first impulse had been to ask how in the hell Rufus Shinra knew to contact him.
He never did get a satisfactory answer to that, but he sure as shit should have followed up on his instinct to leave Shinra's VP twisting in the wind. Instead, here he is at an apartment building so fancy, one pane of glass probably cost more gil than even Alec was sure to see in his very long life. Alec, plainly and indistinctly dressed, with the hood of his sweatshirt drawn up, probably sticks out like a sore thumb. Well, if anyone asks, he can probably pass himself off as a maintenance worker or some such. Wouldn't be the first time.
Alec spends the far too long elevator ride wondering just how he ended up here - curiosity, maybe? Perhaps he wanted to take stock of the heir to Shinra's throne himself? The mystery is no closer to unraveling by the time the elevator dings and Alec steps off, approaching the appropriate door to knock, three sharp raps against the surface with a knuckle. ]
[It should be little to no surprise that the door unlocks on its own, a soft click sounding in the mechanisms that keep it secure. A high rise like this is not without its fair share of integrated security, distinctly out of sight, but there should be little doubt in Alec’s mind that he’s passed at least five cameras in the long hall that leads directly to Rufus Shinra’s door.
There’s no one there to greet him at first. Should he enter, he’ll be met with a wide, open living area, lined with tall windows that allow light to filter through during daylight hours; at night, the twinkling of buildings reflect off this glass instead. There’s a section for seating, an arrangement of sleek sofas and an even sleeker table, a flat television monitor mounted on the nearby wall; a dining area, which does not seem used for its intended purpose, adorned with a closed laptop and organized papers stacked next to it; near that, a bar, which is more appropriately used if half a glass of amber liquid indicates anything, and around a corner, a long hallway which disappears into the rest of the flat.
The decor is much like the interior of the Shinra building itself if Alec has ever seen it. Corporate sleek, dark and minimalistic, every surface a sheen of gloss and untouchable opulence. Rufus’ own proclivities seem to skew towards keeping his living space clean and organized, except for one or two objects out of place to prove that someone does indeed live here. Otherwise, it looks pulled straight out of the pages of a luxury catalog — as if the environment exists only to show the extent of what money can buy, and how much of it is purchasable.
Despite this, one cannot say anything terrible about the view. This high up on the Upper Plate, the city of Midgar’s less flattering underbelly is hidden and tucked away beneath structures of steel. The rest, a stretch of city skyline shimmering with lights that look all the more spectacular at night, is beautiful even to the most objective eye. It’s peaceful, almost, if you do not think too long and hard about what it all rests upon.
Alec is left alone for a good forty seconds before anyone (or anything) moves to make an introduction. But eventually, down the end of that long hall that presumably leads to rooms unseen, there’s the click, click, click of… nails on marble? A hurried tempo, like the quick lope of something on four legs, louder, louder—
A Shinra hound, all dark coat and rippling muscle, bounds in, closes the space between it and Alec, and stops feet away with its teeth bared, a growl in its throat, and whip-like tail lashing in a warning. It doesn’t look very happy to see him.]
[ Oh, Alec is very aware of the security measures in this part of town, let alone in the home of someone like Rufus. He's been careful to keep his face concealed in the shadow of his hood, because the last thing he needs is publicity.
He hesitates for a second or two when the door swings open of its own volition and no one is there to greet him, as if fate is giving him one last chance to turn around and forget this whole thing. He doesn't take it, of course, and instead mutters something under his breath about rich bastards and steps inside.
No one seems to be home, or at least readily available. It gives Alec a moment to look around, to suss out spots he imagines cameras to be. His gaze lingers for a long moment on that laptop - just what kinds of secrets could he pry out of that? - but making a grab for it when he's very likely being watched is unwise.
It's soon made obvious that he's not alone after all, and the tell-tale patter of not-so-little paws on marble flooring makes its way to him with all haste. Alec backs up half a step, arms thrown high and palms clearly visible. He's not armed - as far as anyone looking at him would be able to tell. ]
Hey Fido. Is this how your master says hello?
[ Unseen is the magical shield that springs up around him, activated with a mere thought. He's ready to keep the hound at bay should this prove to be a trap. ]
[“Fido” responds only by baring its teeth more visibly, lining those oversized jaws. The growl is guttural and constant.
But, perhaps not surprisingly, Rufus’ timing is perfect. His footsteps are drowned out in the irritation of his pet, but they become more audible the moment he rounds the corner and comes into the living room — dressed in white, as he often is, but only a dress shirt and slacks combo today, shoes impeccably shined.]
Darkstar, heel.
[The hound’s ears flick back, twitching a little at its master’s voice, but without hesitation it sits on its haunches. Still alert, still made of taut muscle that looks as if it might spring forward in a moment’s notice, but the aggression drains away. It stares at Alec all the same.
Rufus regards the man for a moment — the state of his dress, the obvious distrust by way of keeping his hood up — and doesn’t seem terribly impressed. But as he did not expect to be impressed, there is nothing particularly inflammatory in his tone.]
Don’t worry. He doesn’t bite unless I tell him to.
[Rufus is unaware of any defensive magic the man might’ve set up, but it likely doesn’t matter. It won’t be needed.]
Beneath his hood, Alec's gaze flicks from the dog to its owner, taking him in from head to toe. Finely dressed, even if his clothes are on the simple side, but he expected as much. Rufus walks in like he owns the place - which he does, in this case, but Alec would wager that's the vibe he puts off no matter where he is.
As a matter of caution - Alec didn't get to where he is without being a paranoid son of a bitch, after all - he keeps his shield in place for the time being. ]
Lucky me.
[ Slowly, and with one eye on the dog, Alec lowers his hands. ]
[Rufus’ lips quirk, amused in a way that reveals he isn’t affected by Alec’s impatience. The man’s overly cautious; he believes observing how strangers behave in his presence often reveal the kind of person they are. Alec, he thinks, is the sort who has a reason to hide his face, even within the safety of Rufus’ home.
Well. “Safe” is relative, maybe.]
Are you going to remove your hood? I won’t do business with someone hiding their face.
[Rufus lets out a shrill whistle between his teeth, and Darkstar stands, turns, and makes its way next to one of the windows to lie down. Maybe that’ll put the other’s nerves at ease.]
[ Alec is overly cautious, he'd admit to that with barely any prompting, so at least he's giving an accurate impression. ]
Won't you?
[ Alec seems only somewhat satisfied when Rufus calls his dog off, but he would bet that Shinra's heir is no slouch either, and who could blame him for thinking that the spawn of the current President won't conduct business honestly? He crosses his arms, mouth pressing into a thin line. ]
I'd hate to ruin the mystique of inviting an info broker to your apartment.
[A retort that comes barely on the heels of Alec’s statement, as if to say the very idea is novel.]
Alec Brennan, right? I already know your name, and I’m sure there’s a file in public records with your face plastered on it.
[A grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but Rufus turns to move towards the bar with an unhurried step. A hand comes up in a dismissive manner, gesturing to the other behind him.]
Right now it’s just a matter of good manners. You want something to drink?
[ ... Well, and that takes care of that. He supposes that's the difference between the two of them - Alec wields the information he holds like an assassin's blade, something to be kept in the shadows and weaponized when one least expects it. But for Rufus, it's more like a baseball bat to the skull, blunt and sudden coming from a man who knows he can afford to be so.
He had his suspicions, of course, that Rufus already knew more about Alec than he was comfortable with, which is to say he knows anything at all. He wouldn't have agreed to this farce if he thought anonymity was on his side. ]
Can't blame a guy for trying.
[ He shrugs, sliding his hood away and letting it fall back. ]
[Though Rufus does not shrug — one might wonder if he would even deign to act so casual, for he looks like a man who was born and bred for the boardroom, straight-backed and always spinning business deals in his head — the words might as well be framed in an invisible one.
He moves to the other side of the bar, finishes off the drink already sitting there with a practiced motion, and ignoring the burn down his throat, sets the glass down. The youngest Shinra seems to regard Alec for a moment more, his air unaffected and expression hard to parse. Maybe he’s just committing the details of his face to memory. Hard to say.]
So, just how good are you supposed to be? I hear you have something of a reputation in circles that don’t like to do business in the public eye.
[ Yeah, he gets that impression very easily. Rufus doesn't hide what he is, he wears it loud and proud like a pair of very questionable pants. It must be nice to have that luxury, but Alec has spent too many years keeping everything about himself close to the chest to change now. ]
Good enough for you to entertain the idea of talking to me, apparently.
[ He sounds rather self-satisfied, smirking at the man across the room. Even if being here is bending - if not outright breaking - many of Alec's personal rules, he's caught the eye of Shinra's VP, for better or worse. ]
What I wanna know is what someone like you wants with a guy like me. I'd have thought you have, like, people for this sort of thing already.
[And that he does. From pencil pushers to directorial management, from hired guns in black suits to the military might of superhuman SOLDIERs. All tools in a wider toolbox, and all at his beck and call — with the exception of his father, whose directives would override even his own on a whim. But there isn’t a whole lot to be done about the latter for now.]
People who work for Shinra, at least. But some objectives require a more delicate touch outside of the company’s purview. And that’s where you come in, tugging at the strings of a few connections I know you’ve already made in the past.
[In other words, Rufus Shinra wishes to work outside of the company’s scrutiny, and that perhaps explains why Alec is here rather than in his office back at HQ.]
[ The only reason people come to Alec is because they want something "off the books", so to speak, but he would have thought an entity such as Shinra had ways of making certain paper trails disappear on their own. That Rufus is asking him rather than those suits of his must mean that this really isn't something he wants the company's fingers in at all.
Now he has Alec's attention, but he keeps any indication of that carefully out of his expression. One eyebrow quirks, and that smirk ticks just a bit wider. ]
Ah. Junior's got ambitions, huh? Alright, I think I might just hear this one out.
[The news spreads quickly, as often and as skewed as Shinra dictates it. The headlines of the day are rife with one breaking news topic in particular — Avalanche, the infamous terrorist group, had launched an attack on the city of Junon during one of the President’s speeches. Though many had escaped, the believed purpose of the operation — to assassinate the President — was a failure. Thanks to the courageous actions of SOLDIER, and the war hero Sephiroth himself, casualties were minimal, and investigations remain on-going.
In general, it is the truth. Shinra has only cut out the ugliest details, as they often do. Today’s lie of omission centers around none other than Rufus himself, discovered as the suspected traitor in the ranks, and caught with evidence of funneling both information and funding to Avalanche itself. His purpose? To dethrone his father.
Most would face execution for such an act of treachery, but President had always favored his son. Rufus earns little more than a slap on the wrist as a result, but is a stinging pain nonetheless — he is stripped of his authority in the company, of his home and his belongings, he is barred from only the most basic and bare minimum communications with Shinra employees, and all of his possessions are labeled as company property until otherwise notified. He is not allowed near HQ; his ID is flagged and probably tracked if he chooses to take advantage of public transportation. He has nothing to his name but his name, and what good is touting his influence across the lower plate, where he was left to fend for himself, if the people there do not deal in influence the same way they do above?
He’s left with the clothes on his back, a phone in his pocket (The Turks will check in on you, Rufus, he had been told), and the amount of gil he had on his person before he was escorted from top to below. And here he stands out like a sore thumb, but he doesn’t care. The stares and whispers (Is that the President’s son? Surely not. What would a man like that be doing down here? Looks eerily like him, though.) are too meager to bother him. His chest churns with irritation, his business-mind trying to salvage the situation with so little to work with. He has no contacts down here — the Turks do, but they’re still in his dad’s pocket.
No, that’s not true. He does have one contact.
They’ve dropped him off at Wall Market. He wonders if his father thinks he has a sense of humor, or the location was random. Doesn’t matter. With what money he has, it’s easy enough to purchase another phone and send a text to a certain info broker.]
I’m in Wall Market. South entrance. Meet me here, now. -R
[ Alec had gleaned the purpose of Rufus' dealings with Avalanche pretty early on - after all, how can he sell information if he doesn't know what it is first? - and he had to give Shinra Junior some credit. He had balls.
So he puts up with Rufus, does his job as a middleman and does it well, but in the end, you can lead a Chocobo to water, hell you can give it water on a silver fucking platter, but you can't make it drink. Even armed with all that Rufus had given them, Avalanche is no match for SOLDIER, and the operation goes tits up in the one place it really mattered most.
No skin off Alec's nose, since he's fairly certain that, apart from Rufus himself, no one else knows of his involvement with the whole affair. (And, he figures, if Rufus gets caught, throwing Alec under the bus isn't really a viable option.) In the end, Alec got a fat paycheck and got to sniff around some Shinra data, so he's happy with that.
Until his phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number and some very peculiar content. Why the fuck would Rufus Shinra be in Wall Market? And why would he be texting Alec about it?
For now, he decides to do a little prodding, just to see what's up. So when he texts back, it's part stalling tactic to see what he can dig up. No mention of Rufus on the news, but that doesn't mean anything. Time to see what he can find in the ol' Shinra personnel files. ]
What's the magic word?
[ Is what he sends, while his eyes remain glued to one of many monitors crammed into what he styles as his office. ]
[He sends it, his usual exterior of icy calm cracking just enough to allow the heat through. Rufus' frown is deep and discontented as he taps a reply across the screen of this cheap, disposable phone, under the shadowed awning of a lean-to.
Rufus tries again, only vaguely more cooperative. He makes a mental note that showing that kind of emotion is useless; he needs time to think, but hasn't allowed himself any.]
I’m not in the mood. This is imperative, so don't waste my time.
[Meanwhile, Alec's quick research yields interesting results. Shinra's personnel files at higher rungs of security are kept under lock and key, of course, but at a base level, there are some interesting stirrings with equally coincidental timing. Mostly, if he searches for Rufus himself, he'll find news of the President's son on an extended business trip overseas. His duties will be delegated between various facets of Shinra management and directorial decision-making until his return. Everyone wish him a safe trip!
Strange, isn't it, given that Rufus is texting him, claiming to be in Wall Market right now?]
[ Well now, that is interesting. If he were a betting man, he might wager that Rufus' business trip would equate more to him being grounded - perhaps quiet literally in this case, which would of course mean two things.
One, Rufus had been found out for his involvement in the failed assassination attempt of his father. And two, his father was a raging dumbass for leaving Rufus alive, but perhaps the old man still had a soft spot for his kid.
Alec kicks back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk next to his keyboard as he reads over Rufus' messages. Oh no, someone isn't happy at all. How amusing. ]
Seems to me you got all the time in the world right now, Junior.
You sure picked a shitty spot for a business trip. And not very far overseas either.
[Alec’s smart and it’s his job to know things before most even catch a whiff of it — Rufus isn’t surprised to learn that he’s aware of the farce of his “business trip” as spun by the company. But it doesn’t ease his irritation, either.]
Dad thinks he can send me down here as punishment and I’ll have a change of heart about my place in the company. Until then, I’m on “vacation” until he says otherwise.
[ There's something sort of poetic about Rufus Shinra getting banished to the slums as punishment for trying to overthrow his dad. Alec sincerely doubts this will quell his son's desire to take over - in fact, it seems to have done the opposite - perhaps this will do him some good. Let him get a whiff of how the little people scrape out their lives before he goes back to the castle in the sky.
Because Alec is something of an asshole, he lets that question hang for a few minutes. Mills around his office and idly pokes at Shinra's files to see if he can dig up anything else somewhat interesting. Then, when he feels like it, he replies, ]
Sure.
[ He snatches up a messenger bag and stuffs a spare set of clothes inside, just in case his buddy Junior has arrived in Wall Market wearing Shinra Chic, and heads out the door. ]
[Shinra Chic? You bet he’s wearing it. It’s not like he was given any leisurely time to get his affairs in order once he was found out, much less grab a change of clothes. Besides, whether or not he would’ve decided to dress down for this momentous occasion is debatable.
So, despite being under the cover of an awning, Rufus is easy to spot. He’s wearing white, again, but also his signature long coat and his totally fashionable, not at all over-the-top pants to match. He might as well be as noticeable as the chocobo warking happily down the street just a ways away.
Considering that he’s keeping an eye out, he spots Alec as he nears, eschewing any manner of excess greeting or explanation in favor of—]
[ Maybe Rufus' mode of dress wouldn't be anything outrageous for Wall Market's night life, but it's the middle of the goddamn day, and here he is looking like... well, that.
Alec spots him almost instantly, and it seems he's spotted in turn. ]
I bet you do.
[ It's a good thing the general tone of Rufus' text messages conveyed his mood, so Alec doesn't exactly expect a warm greeting. In return, Alec shoves the messenger bag at Rufus' chest. Inside he will find an array of clothes in Alec's usual style, which is to say as plain as possible. A pair of jeans, t-shirt, jacket, and a ball cap. ]
Get changed first. That outfit is a fucking eyesore. Then, let's you and I take a walk.
[The bag jostles, crinkling in his arms as he holds it up, eyes fixed on Alec and frowning. Rufus tries to conjure up an uncaring tone, but his mood twists it into sounding impatient.]
The outfit’s fine.
[But maybe not suited to Wall Market in broad daylight, though he won’t give Alec the satisfaction of agreeing with him.
He slings the bag over his shoulder, casting about for a place to change. Around the corner of the building they’re closest to would do the trick, obscured from passerby’s, and at this point Rufus wants to talk shop more than he cares about propriety. So without another word, he goes ‘round the structure to change.
Minutes later and he’s back, dressed in plain clothing that anyone walking down the street could be seen wearing. It cuts his figure in a different way; no more sleek lines, layers, and belts crisp white. This casual, with locks of hair slightly askew from pulling the shirt over his head, he looks almost like a different person.]
You couldn’t have brought me something that you bothered to iron?
I have like a dozen things to say about your pants alone.
[ And they mostly boil down to "what the fuck". Thankfully there's no more arguing to be had, as Rufus ducks into an alley to change. Probably wouldn't be the first time Wall Market has had someone stripping in broad daylight, and most of the locals are too deep into their hangovers to care.
Rufus reappears and Alec has to admit that, though simple, the outfit has the desired effect. If he didn't already know he was looking at Rufus Shinra, he wouldn't know he was looking at Rufus Shinra.
Apparently clothes do make the man. ]
The fuck's an iron?
[ That's a no. ]
So- [ This, as he begins walking, expecting Rufus to follow ] -I gotta know, how hard did daddy cut you off?
[What’s an iron? Rufus pretends to not care whether or not Alec’s serious, though it makes him wonder just what the hell these clothes have been through before he donned him. And the man has any right to remark about his pants?]
Assets are frozen. Everything I owned is now considered company property, and I’m not allowed on premises. I don’t have a place to stay, and on top of that, I’m sure the Turks will be monitoring me now and again.
[He pushes the bag back into Alec’s hands. Why should he carry it?]
[ Alec will accept the bag back, just this once. It's his bag, so he'll carry it, even if the clothes inside aren't his and weigh like thirty pounds. He slings the strap over one shoulder, not once breaking stride. ]
Damn. I'd say consider yourself lucky you didn't get whacked for trying to whack your old man, but this is probably a fate worse than death to you, huh?
[ He's really not fond of keeping company with Rufus if Shinra's suits are going to play babysitter now and again. There's a group of people he'd rather not ever cross paths with. ]
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finalflight2020-04-22 12:49 pm
no subject
So when none other than the Vice fucking President of Shinra Electric Power Company came a-calling, Alec's first impulse was to tell him to shove it. Okay, no, that had been his second impulse. His first impulse had been to ask how in the hell Rufus Shinra knew to contact him.
He never did get a satisfactory answer to that, but he sure as shit should have followed up on his instinct to leave Shinra's VP twisting in the wind. Instead, here he is at an apartment building so fancy, one pane of glass probably cost more gil than even Alec was sure to see in his very long life. Alec, plainly and indistinctly dressed, with the hood of his sweatshirt drawn up, probably sticks out like a sore thumb. Well, if anyone asks, he can probably pass himself off as a maintenance worker or some such. Wouldn't be the first time.
Alec spends the far too long elevator ride wondering just how he ended up here - curiosity, maybe? Perhaps he wanted to take stock of the heir to Shinra's throne himself? The mystery is no closer to unraveling by the time the elevator dings and Alec steps off, approaching the appropriate door to knock, three sharp raps against the surface with a knuckle. ]
no subject
There’s no one there to greet him at first. Should he enter, he’ll be met with a wide, open living area, lined with tall windows that allow light to filter through during daylight hours; at night, the twinkling of buildings reflect off this glass instead. There’s a section for seating, an arrangement of sleek sofas and an even sleeker table, a flat television monitor mounted on the nearby wall; a dining area, which does not seem used for its intended purpose, adorned with a closed laptop and organized papers stacked next to it; near that, a bar, which is more appropriately used if half a glass of amber liquid indicates anything, and around a corner, a long hallway which disappears into the rest of the flat.
The decor is much like the interior of the Shinra building itself if Alec has ever seen it. Corporate sleek, dark and minimalistic, every surface a sheen of gloss and untouchable opulence. Rufus’ own proclivities seem to skew towards keeping his living space clean and organized, except for one or two objects out of place to prove that someone does indeed live here. Otherwise, it looks pulled straight out of the pages of a luxury catalog — as if the environment exists only to show the extent of what money can buy, and how much of it is purchasable.
Despite this, one cannot say anything terrible about the view. This high up on the Upper Plate, the city of Midgar’s less flattering underbelly is hidden and tucked away beneath structures of steel. The rest, a stretch of city skyline shimmering with lights that look all the more spectacular at night, is beautiful even to the most objective eye. It’s peaceful, almost, if you do not think too long and hard about what it all rests upon.
Alec is left alone for a good forty seconds before anyone (or anything) moves to make an introduction. But eventually, down the end of that long hall that presumably leads to rooms unseen, there’s the click, click, click of… nails on marble? A hurried tempo, like the quick lope of something on four legs, louder, louder—
A Shinra hound, all dark coat and rippling muscle, bounds in, closes the space between it and Alec, and stops feet away with its teeth bared, a growl in its throat, and whip-like tail lashing in a warning. It doesn’t look very happy to see him.]
no subject
He hesitates for a second or two when the door swings open of its own volition and no one is there to greet him, as if fate is giving him one last chance to turn around and forget this whole thing. He doesn't take it, of course, and instead mutters something under his breath about rich bastards and steps inside.
No one seems to be home, or at least readily available. It gives Alec a moment to look around, to suss out spots he imagines cameras to be. His gaze lingers for a long moment on that laptop - just what kinds of secrets could he pry out of that? - but making a grab for it when he's very likely being watched is unwise.
It's soon made obvious that he's not alone after all, and the tell-tale patter of not-so-little paws on marble flooring makes its way to him with all haste. Alec backs up half a step, arms thrown high and palms clearly visible. He's not armed - as far as anyone looking at him would be able to tell. ]
Hey Fido. Is this how your master says hello?
[ Unseen is the magical shield that springs up around him, activated with a mere thought. He's ready to keep the hound at bay should this prove to be a trap. ]
no subject
But, perhaps not surprisingly, Rufus’ timing is perfect. His footsteps are drowned out in the irritation of his pet, but they become more audible the moment he rounds the corner and comes into the living room — dressed in white, as he often is, but only a dress shirt and slacks combo today, shoes impeccably shined.]
Darkstar, heel.
[The hound’s ears flick back, twitching a little at its master’s voice, but without hesitation it sits on its haunches. Still alert, still made of taut muscle that looks as if it might spring forward in a moment’s notice, but the aggression drains away. It stares at Alec all the same.
Rufus regards the man for a moment — the state of his dress, the obvious distrust by way of keeping his hood up — and doesn’t seem terribly impressed. But as he did not expect to be impressed, there is nothing particularly inflammatory in his tone.]
Don’t worry. He doesn’t bite unless I tell him to.
[Rufus is unaware of any defensive magic the man might’ve set up, but it likely doesn’t matter. It won’t be needed.]
no subject
Beneath his hood, Alec's gaze flicks from the dog to its owner, taking him in from head to toe. Finely dressed, even if his clothes are on the simple side, but he expected as much. Rufus walks in like he owns the place - which he does, in this case, but Alec would wager that's the vibe he puts off no matter where he is.
As a matter of caution - Alec didn't get to where he is without being a paranoid son of a bitch, after all - he keeps his shield in place for the time being. ]
Lucky me.
[ Slowly, and with one eye on the dog, Alec lowers his hands. ]
So... are you gonna tell me what this is about?
no subject
Well. “Safe” is relative, maybe.]
Are you going to remove your hood? I won’t do business with someone hiding their face.
[Rufus lets out a shrill whistle between his teeth, and Darkstar stands, turns, and makes its way next to one of the windows to lie down. Maybe that’ll put the other’s nerves at ease.]
no subject
Won't you?
[ Alec seems only somewhat satisfied when Rufus calls his dog off, but he would bet that Shinra's heir is no slouch either, and who could blame him for thinking that the spawn of the current President won't conduct business honestly? He crosses his arms, mouth pressing into a thin line. ]
I'd hate to ruin the mystique of inviting an info broker to your apartment.
no subject
[A retort that comes barely on the heels of Alec’s statement, as if to say the very idea is novel.]
Alec Brennan, right? I already know your name, and I’m sure there’s a file in public records with your face plastered on it.
[A grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but Rufus turns to move towards the bar with an unhurried step. A hand comes up in a dismissive manner, gesturing to the other behind him.]
Right now it’s just a matter of good manners. You want something to drink?
no subject
He had his suspicions, of course, that Rufus already knew more about Alec than he was comfortable with, which is to say he knows anything at all. He wouldn't have agreed to this farce if he thought anonymity was on his side. ]
Can't blame a guy for trying.
[ He shrugs, sliding his hood away and letting it fall back. ]
I'll pass, thanks. I don't drink on the clock.
no subject
[Though Rufus does not shrug — one might wonder if he would even deign to act so casual, for he looks like a man who was born and bred for the boardroom, straight-backed and always spinning business deals in his head — the words might as well be framed in an invisible one.
He moves to the other side of the bar, finishes off the drink already sitting there with a practiced motion, and ignoring the burn down his throat, sets the glass down. The youngest Shinra seems to regard Alec for a moment more, his air unaffected and expression hard to parse. Maybe he’s just committing the details of his face to memory. Hard to say.]
So, just how good are you supposed to be? I hear you have something of a reputation in circles that don’t like to do business in the public eye.
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like a pair of very questionable pants. It must be nice to have that luxury, but Alec has spent too many years keeping everything about himself close to the chest to change now. ]Good enough for you to entertain the idea of talking to me, apparently.
[ He sounds rather self-satisfied, smirking at the man across the room. Even if being here is bending - if not outright breaking - many of Alec's personal rules, he's caught the eye of Shinra's VP, for better or worse. ]
What I wanna know is what someone like you wants with a guy like me. I'd have thought you have, like, people for this sort of thing already.
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[And that he does. From pencil pushers to directorial management, from hired guns in black suits to the military might of superhuman SOLDIERs. All tools in a wider toolbox, and all at his beck and call — with the exception of his father, whose directives would override even his own on a whim. But there isn’t a whole lot to be done about the latter for now.]
People who work for Shinra, at least. But some objectives require a more delicate touch outside of the company’s purview. And that’s where you come in, tugging at the strings of a few connections I know you’ve already made in the past.
[In other words, Rufus Shinra wishes to work outside of the company’s scrutiny, and that perhaps explains why Alec is here rather than in his office back at HQ.]
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Now he has Alec's attention, but he keeps any indication of that carefully out of his expression. One eyebrow quirks, and that smirk ticks just a bit wider. ]
Ah. Junior's got ambitions, huh? Alright, I think I might just hear this one out.
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In general, it is the truth. Shinra has only cut out the ugliest details, as they often do. Today’s lie of omission centers around none other than Rufus himself, discovered as the suspected traitor in the ranks, and caught with evidence of funneling both information and funding to Avalanche itself. His purpose? To dethrone his father.
Most would face execution for such an act of treachery, but President had always favored his son. Rufus earns little more than a slap on the wrist as a result, but is a stinging pain nonetheless — he is stripped of his authority in the company, of his home and his belongings, he is barred from only the most basic and bare minimum communications with Shinra employees, and all of his possessions are labeled as company property until otherwise notified. He is not allowed near HQ; his ID is flagged and probably tracked if he chooses to take advantage of public transportation. He has nothing to his name but his name, and what good is touting his influence across the lower plate, where he was left to fend for himself, if the people there do not deal in influence the same way they do above?
He’s left with the clothes on his back, a phone in his pocket (The Turks will check in on you, Rufus, he had been told), and the amount of gil he had on his person before he was escorted from top to below. And here he stands out like a sore thumb, but he doesn’t care. The stares and whispers (Is that the President’s son? Surely not. What would a man like that be doing down here? Looks eerily like him, though.) are too meager to bother him. His chest churns with irritation, his business-mind trying to salvage the situation with so little to work with. He has no contacts down here — the Turks do, but they’re still in his dad’s pocket.
No, that’s not true. He does have one contact.
They’ve dropped him off at Wall Market. He wonders if his father thinks he has a sense of humor, or the location was random. Doesn’t matter. With what money he has, it’s easy enough to purchase another phone and send a text to a certain info broker.]
I’m in Wall Market. South entrance. Meet me here, now.
-R
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So he puts up with Rufus, does his job as a middleman and does it well, but in the end, you can lead a Chocobo to water, hell you can give it water on a silver fucking platter, but you can't make it drink. Even armed with all that Rufus had given them, Avalanche is no match for SOLDIER, and the operation goes tits up in the one place it really mattered most.
No skin off Alec's nose, since he's fairly certain that, apart from Rufus himself, no one else knows of his involvement with the whole affair. (And, he figures, if Rufus gets caught, throwing Alec under the bus isn't really a viable option.) In the end, Alec got a fat paycheck and got to sniff around some Shinra data, so he's happy with that.
Until his phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number and some very peculiar content. Why the fuck would Rufus Shinra be in Wall Market? And why would he be texting Alec about it?
For now, he decides to do a little prodding, just to see what's up. So when he texts back, it's part stalling tactic to see what he can dig up. No mention of Rufus on the news, but that doesn't mean anything. Time to see what he can find in the ol' Shinra personnel files. ]
What's the magic word?
[ Is what he sends, while his eyes remain glued to one of many monitors crammed into what he styles as his office. ]
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[He sends it, his usual exterior of icy calm cracking just enough to allow the heat through. Rufus' frown is deep and discontented as he taps a reply across the screen of this cheap, disposable phone, under the shadowed awning of a lean-to.
Rufus tries again, only vaguely more cooperative. He makes a mental note that showing that kind of emotion is useless; he needs time to think, but hasn't allowed himself any.]
I’m not in the mood. This is imperative, so don't waste my time.
[Meanwhile, Alec's quick research yields interesting results. Shinra's personnel files at higher rungs of security are kept under lock and key, of course, but at a base level, there are some interesting stirrings with equally coincidental timing. Mostly, if he searches for Rufus himself, he'll find news of the President's son on an extended business trip overseas. His duties will be delegated between various facets of Shinra management and directorial decision-making until his return. Everyone wish him a safe trip!
Strange, isn't it, given that Rufus is texting him, claiming to be in Wall Market right now?]
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One, Rufus had been found out for his involvement in the failed assassination attempt of his father. And two, his father was a raging dumbass for leaving Rufus alive, but perhaps the old man still had a soft spot for his kid.
Alec kicks back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk next to his keyboard as he reads over Rufus' messages. Oh no, someone isn't happy at all. How amusing. ]
Seems to me you got all the time in the world right now, Junior.
You sure picked a shitty spot for a business trip. And not very far overseas either.
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Dad thinks he can send me down here as punishment and I’ll have a change of heart about my place in the company. Until then, I’m on “vacation” until he says otherwise.
Unacceptable bullshit.
You coming here or not?
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Because Alec is something of an asshole, he lets that question hang for a few minutes. Mills around his office and idly pokes at Shinra's files to see if he can dig up anything else somewhat interesting. Then, when he feels like it, he replies, ]
Sure.
[ He snatches up a messenger bag and stuffs a spare set of clothes inside, just in case his buddy Junior has arrived in Wall Market wearing Shinra Chic, and heads out the door. ]
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So, despite being under the cover of an awning, Rufus is easy to spot. He’s wearing white, again, but also his signature long coat and his totally fashionable, not at all over-the-top pants to match. He might as well be as noticeable as the chocobo warking happily down the street just a ways away.
Considering that he’s keeping an eye out, he spots Alec as he nears, eschewing any manner of excess greeting or explanation in favor of—]
I need— [Money.] —your resources.
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Alec spots him almost instantly, and it seems he's spotted in turn. ]
I bet you do.
[ It's a good thing the general tone of Rufus' text messages conveyed his mood, so Alec doesn't exactly expect a warm greeting. In return, Alec shoves the messenger bag at Rufus' chest. Inside he will find an array of clothes in Alec's usual style, which is to say as plain as possible. A pair of jeans, t-shirt, jacket, and a ball cap. ]
Get changed first. That outfit is a fucking eyesore. Then, let's you and I take a walk.
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The outfit’s fine.
[But maybe not suited to Wall Market in broad daylight, though he won’t give Alec the satisfaction of agreeing with him.
He slings the bag over his shoulder, casting about for a place to change. Around the corner of the building they’re closest to would do the trick, obscured from passerby’s, and at this point Rufus wants to talk shop more than he cares about propriety. So without another word, he goes ‘round the structure to change.
Minutes later and he’s back, dressed in plain clothing that anyone walking down the street could be seen wearing. It cuts his figure in a different way; no more sleek lines, layers, and
beltscrisp white. This casual, with locks of hair slightly askew from pulling the shirt over his head, he looks almost like a different person.]You couldn’t have brought me something that you bothered to iron?
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[ And they mostly boil down to "what the fuck". Thankfully there's no more arguing to be had, as Rufus ducks into an alley to change. Probably wouldn't be the first time Wall Market has had someone stripping in broad daylight, and most of the locals are too deep into their hangovers to care.
Rufus reappears and Alec has to admit that, though simple, the outfit has the desired effect. If he didn't already know he was looking at Rufus Shinra, he wouldn't know he was looking at Rufus Shinra.
Apparently clothes do make the man. ]
The fuck's an iron?
[ That's a no. ]
So- [ This, as he begins walking, expecting Rufus to follow ] -I gotta know, how hard did daddy cut you off?
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Assets are frozen. Everything I owned is now considered company property, and I’m not allowed on premises. I don’t have a place to stay, and on top of that, I’m sure the Turks will be monitoring me now and again.
[He pushes the bag back into Alec’s hands. Why should he carry it?]
To “check in”.
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Damn. I'd say consider yourself lucky you didn't get whacked for trying to whack your old man, but this is probably a fate worse than death to you, huh?
[ He's really not fond of keeping company with Rufus if Shinra's suits are going to play babysitter now and again. There's a group of people he'd rather not ever cross paths with. ]
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dusts this off...no obligation to continue if you don't wanna!
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