[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.
He could let that nickname get to him. After all, it could dig up a few lingering issues he has with the term, the young Shinra heir working in the shadow of his father. And that's not even accounting for the underlying thread of disrespect, something which he commands daily from all those who work for him. The employees at Shinra HQ react to his presence always, like he's a stone thrown into a pond and they're rippling his effect, in all their sycophancy. Sometimes it's grating, sometimes it amuses him. But none of them would ever call him "junior".
But Rufus doesn't care enough about Alec's opinion for it to matter, and that's the difference. It slides off of him like water.]
[ Darn, Rufus doesn't even seem mildly rankled by the nickname, but then, Alec calling him "Junior" must be tantamount to him having a bit of dirt on his shoe. Mildly annoying at best. Still, Alec isn't one to give up so easily, and that nickname is definitely going to stay in play.
Now both Alec's eyebrows take a hike up towards his hairline. He had somehow expected the name "Avalanche" to come tumbling (ha) out during this conversation, but not nearly so soon. ]
[No point in beating around the bush. Alec doesn’t seem like the type to play the delicate back-and-forth while striking a deal. All the better for Rufus, because he doesn’t take the same delight in it as others, either. He prefers to be blunt.
To the point, then, but with a careful eye on his reaction all the while.]
Not for the reasons you might think.
[To quash Avalanche under Shinra’s boot, all for daring to stand up against perceived slights. No, if he wanted to do that, why would he bother calling in Alec?]
You’re an information broker, and I have information that Avalanche would find… beneficial. In the end, it’s good business for you, working as a middle-man between the VP of Shinra and the terrorist cell that wants so see it all burn down. Right?
[ Thankfully, Alec is very well-versed in keeping up an air of cocky, smirky self-assurance, even when he's being thrown for a total loop. And throw him for a loop Rufus does, but not as much of one as Rufus might suspect, either.
Alec knows all too well what it's like to want to take the rug out from under one's parent, despite any family ties. Or, perhaps more accurately, because of them. ]
So you're asking me to ferry info - what I can only assume is Shinra info - to Avalanche? Shit, no wonder you don't want this anywhere daddy's fingers can get into it.
[The scoff that escapes him isn’t completely devoid of humor.]
‘Course not. I can’t say my father would approve if he knew.
[To say the least, especially if daddy dearest knew the scope of the plan germinating in his mind.]
So needless to say, this arrangement requires a certain amount of discretion. And a clear understanding beforehand — if you’re caught, I’m cutting you loose. No hard feelings; just business, you understand.
[ Alec has no qualms with taking Rufus' money - the man has plenty of it to spare, but he's not totally sold on this job just yet. Even if he was going behind deal ol' dad's back, that didn't mean he had anyone's best interests in mind but his own. ]
And I get it. That's how this job works. I don't know you, you don't know me. All standard.
But humor me for a second, here. What are you trying to do with this little act of subterfuge?
[ For a second, that smirk vanishes, the cocky velour falls away and Alec is very serious.
That he's even considering taking a job for someone this high up the ladder is a miracle - or perhaps a serious lack of judgement. Alec does not do jobs for people who keep the rest of the populace under their heel, and in fact most of the info he slides Avalanche's way is done anonymously and pro bono for just that reason.
However, there's only so much he, and even Avalanche, can do to the people who rule their little world. Right now, he's being handed an opportunity for some real impact, he just has to figure out if Junior here is truly the lesser evil.
He shrugs, his flippant demeanor sliding back into place as quickly as it had dropped away. ]
[For a moment, Alec’s smartass facade recedes, leaving only a serious look which informs Rufus of one thing: this one adheres to his own set of rules. That alone is nothing too unusual, but—]
Standards. [—he echoes. That implies the rules are steeped in morality of some kind, and that always makes things more complicated than need be.
But it’s good to know. It means that his reply should mean something.]
If I told you that my father’s time as President is up, what would you say?
[ Rufus is lucky Alec is here at all, given his particular set of morals, but he doesn't say as much. The man probably doesn't care, first of all, and second of all, Alec doesn't particularly like to advertise the finer points of his personal set of rules. Just how much of his work is done for free is a secret he means to take to the grave. ]
I’d say you’re not the only one who thinks so, but as the VP that would make you heir to the proverbial throne. Think you can run things better than dear ol’ dad?
[ It’s a casual question on the surface, but he really is going to have to pick the lesser evil here, isn’t he? If Rufus succeeds his father and turns out to be an even bigger asshole, then this is on Alec’s shoulders, isn’t it?
[For a half moment, Rufus’ eyes resemble ice, as cold as their color.]
Of course I will.
[Until the uptick of his mouth slides his confidence back into the usual well-worn grooves.
He moves to pour himself another drink. Whiskey, with a dark label and gold calligraphy scrawled across it. It’s scotch that most would never even see in their lifetimes, shimmering into a small glass as it fills.]
...I don’t know what you’ve heard, and I’m sure the rumors run the gamut. But I’ll make one thing clear: I don’t ride on my father’s coattails. Just because I’m flesh and blood doesn’t mean that my ambitions are exactly aligned to his.
[ Whether intentional or not, Rufus turns back on Alec the same trick Alec had used moments ago, a brief glimpse into something far more serious behind the veneer of business and confidence. Alec has yet to decide if he's impressed or not, but that certainly counts towards something. ]
I kind of got that impression when you told me you were going behind papa's back. So, if I'm following this correctly... you want me to feed info to Avalanche to get dad out of the big, comfy president's chair so you can take his place.
[He gives an amused hm. Rufus sets the bottle down, thinking for a moment as he drinks from the glass.
Should he take that as approval? Probably not. He gets the feeling that Alec is the type who keeps his cards close to the chest, his true opinions not so freely given. Fitting for an info-broker, at least.]
It's just business. If there's one person in all of Midgar who understands that the most, it's my father. He's the one who taught me as much.
[And if he's less than understanding, it doesn't matter. He'd be too dead to deride him for it.]
But I want you to feed more than just info to Avalanche. I want you to feed them funding, too. You'll take your own portion of the cut, naturally, so don't worry about that. All-in-all, a pretty simple arrangement if you ask me. Won't see the results for probably months on end, but it'll be worth it.
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finalflight2020-04-22 12:49 pm
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.]
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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. ]
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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.]
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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?
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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.
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[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?
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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.
no subject
[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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He could let that nickname get to him. After all, it could dig up a few lingering issues he has with the term, the young Shinra heir working in the shadow of his father. And that's not even accounting for the underlying thread of disrespect, something which he commands daily from all those who work for him. The employees at Shinra HQ react to his presence always, like he's a stone thrown into a pond and they're rippling his effect, in all their sycophancy. Sometimes it's grating, sometimes it amuses him. But none of them would ever call him "junior".
But Rufus doesn't care enough about Alec's opinion for it to matter, and that's the difference. It slides off of him like water.]
What's your working relationship with Avalanche?
[Asking for a friend. That friend is him.]
no subject
Now both Alec's eyebrows take a hike up towards his hairline. He had somehow expected the name "Avalanche" to come tumbling (ha) out during this conversation, but not nearly so soon. ]
That entirely depends on why you want to know.
no subject
To the point, then, but with a careful eye on his reaction all the while.]
Not for the reasons you might think.
[To quash Avalanche under Shinra’s boot, all for daring to stand up against perceived slights. No, if he wanted to do that, why would he bother calling in Alec?]
You’re an information broker, and I have information that Avalanche would find… beneficial. In the end, it’s good business for you, working as a middle-man between the VP of Shinra and the terrorist cell that wants so see it all burn down. Right?
no subject
Alec knows all too well what it's like to want to take the rug out from under one's parent, despite any family ties. Or, perhaps more accurately, because of them. ]
So you're asking me to ferry info - what I can only assume is Shinra info - to Avalanche? Shit, no wonder you don't want this anywhere daddy's fingers can get into it.
no subject
‘Course not. I can’t say my father would approve if he knew.
[To say the least, especially if daddy dearest knew the scope of the plan germinating in his mind.]
So needless to say, this arrangement requires a certain amount of discretion. And a clear understanding beforehand — if you’re caught, I’m cutting you loose. No hard feelings; just business, you understand.
[A phrase that could mean... a lot of things.]
But to make up for it, I pay well. Very well.
no subject
[ Alec has no qualms with taking Rufus' money - the man has plenty of it to spare, but he's not totally sold on this job just yet. Even if he was going behind deal ol' dad's back, that didn't mean he had anyone's best interests in mind but his own. ]
And I get it. That's how this job works. I don't know you, you don't know me. All standard.
But humor me for a second, here. What are you trying to do with this little act of subterfuge?
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Does the answer matter?
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[ For a second, that smirk vanishes, the cocky velour falls away and Alec is very serious.
That he's even considering taking a job for someone this high up the ladder is a miracle - or perhaps a serious lack of judgement. Alec does not do jobs for people who keep the rest of the populace under their heel, and in fact most of the info he slides Avalanche's way is done anonymously and pro bono for just that reason.
However, there's only so much he, and even Avalanche, can do to the people who rule their little world. Right now, he's being handed an opportunity for some real impact, he just has to figure out if Junior here is truly the lesser evil.
He shrugs, his flippant demeanor sliding back into place as quickly as it had dropped away. ]
A guy has to have some standards, right?
no subject
Standards. [—he echoes. That implies the rules are steeped in morality of some kind, and that always makes things more complicated than need be.
But it’s good to know. It means that his reply should mean something.]
If I told you that my father’s time as President is up, what would you say?
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I’d say you’re not the only one who thinks so, but as the VP that would make you heir to the proverbial throne. Think you can run things better than dear ol’ dad?
[ It’s a casual question on the surface, but he really is going to have to pick the lesser evil here, isn’t he? If Rufus succeeds his father and turns out to be an even bigger asshole, then this is on Alec’s shoulders, isn’t it?
Fuck. ]
no subject
Of course I will.
[Until the uptick of his mouth slides his confidence back into the usual well-worn grooves.
He moves to pour himself another drink. Whiskey, with a dark label and gold calligraphy scrawled across it. It’s scotch that most would never even see in their lifetimes, shimmering into a small glass as it fills.]
...I don’t know what you’ve heard, and I’m sure the rumors run the gamut. But I’ll make one thing clear: I don’t ride on my father’s coattails. Just because I’m flesh and blood doesn’t mean that my ambitions are exactly aligned to his.
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I kind of got that impression when you told me you were going behind papa's back. So, if I'm following this correctly... you want me to feed info to Avalanche to get dad out of the big, comfy president's chair so you can take his place.
This is one hell of a job you're running, Junior.
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Should he take that as approval? Probably not. He gets the feeling that Alec is the type who keeps his cards close to the chest, his true opinions not so freely given. Fitting for an info-broker, at least.]
It's just business. If there's one person in all of Midgar who understands that the most, it's my father. He's the one who taught me as much.
[And if he's less than understanding, it doesn't matter. He'd be too dead to deride him for it.]
But I want you to feed more than just info to Avalanche. I want you to feed them funding, too. You'll take your own portion of the cut, naturally, so don't worry about that. All-in-all, a pretty simple arrangement if you ask me. Won't see the results for probably months on end, but it'll be worth it.
So are you in?
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