[ A solid plan, considering Alec always has a smart remark or two or seven at the ready, and Rufus is better off not goading him. He really doesn't need it. ]
Buddy, I hate to break it to you, but starting now, you are a desperate grounder.
[ If an extremely determined one. He can find a lot of faults with Rufus, some imagined, some real, but he certainly can't fault his drive. The guy was willing to kill his own father to get to the top. ]
I might have an idea or two, but first a couple of things: One, how good are you in a fight? And two, you better come up with an alias before I come up with one for you.
[He is not a desperate grounder, and he briskly bites back-]
I'm only dressed like one.
[Your clothes! Are wrinkly!! Alec!!
But even so, Rufus clicks his tongue at the set of questions.]
I'm not bad in a fight. No SOLDIER, but a good shot with a gun if you can find one for me. [Because he assumes that Alec's asking for a reason, and that reason would indeed require a bit of fighting and/or violence. This means the situation would be far more advantageous if he could have some manner of firearm holstered against him. As for an alias-]
You mean you're not just going to introduce me to everyone as "Junior", huh?
I very strongly considered it, but you've had a rough day so I figured I'd throw you a bone. It's on the table if you can't think of anything decent, though.
[ Guns aren't terribly hard to come by down here. There are weapon shops pretty much everywhere, but that shouldn't be a problem. Might be better for Rufus to be armed no matter what, just in case. ]
This leads to thing number three: how much money do you actually have?
I'm not going to let you keep calling me Junior. You've gotten away with it long enough. If you want to call me something false, then call me…
[He mashes together names in his head. Runs through the Shinra personnel list, tumbles them around like a lotto and spits out the most reasonable amalgamation he can think of.
A mundane name, so he thinks of a mundane man. At least the “R” is shared.] Reeve. [Last name, he needs a last name. Whose last name could he steal that wouldn’t raise eyebrows in an introduction? None that he knows— except for a man that was never given one. Sephiroth. Can’t go by it completely, though, so what about—] Roth. Reeve Roth.
[There, a name. Call him by it if you want to, Alec, but it’s temporary and he’ll not spend hours mulling it over.
He gestures at Alec’s bag. What money he has is in there, though the other man’ll have to dig around in his pants pockets to find it.]
[ Ah, to be a fly on the wall of Rufus' brain to watch that thought process. It doesn't escape Alec's notice that he chooses the name of someone he worked with, but at least the last name is different enough that no one will think twice about it.
Really, all this tells him is Rufus really needs to get out of the office more.
(And now he has.) ]
Well okay, Reeve. [ Ick, that's a little weird. ] Let's just go with R, since you seem to like that letter enough.
Three thousand is probably just enough to get you a halfway decent weapon. Doesn't leave you anything for food and lodgings, though.
Oh no. No no no. That's not how transactions work. I don't owe you jack. You hired me, I did my job, I got paid. That doesn't place me in your debt, that's business.
[ You know, business? Rufus is supposedly very big on that sort of thing.
With no ceremony, Alec un-slings his bag from his shoulder and shoves it at Rufus again, giving it a little shake so it jingles - whether that's the ungodly amount of metal hanging from the clothes inside, or the gil still sitting in the pockets is up for debate. ]
If you want cash, you need to earn it just like everybody else. I am not your bank.
[Rufus takes a step back, steadying himself when Alec practically shoves the bag back into his arms.]
I'm asking for a loan, not a hand-out.
[Said like he's the one who's got the right to be insulted this time. He might have been born into wealth and luxury, but he doesn't like being perceived as someone who's too lazy to put in the effort to achieve his goals. He's not begging for help, he's trying to arrange something mutually beneficial for both parties, he thinks.
He narrows his eyes at the other man.]
So then what good are you? If you're planning on pointing me in the right direction for some work, then do it. Otherwise, stop wasting my time.
[ Whether Rufus takes the bag back or not, Alec lets go. Let it hit the ground for all he cares. It's not his million-gil duds in there. ]
If you truly think I'm that useless, you wouldn't have called me in the first place. I'm not your friend, not your bank, and I'm not lending you money. Not now.
[ Which would imply that he had been thinking about it, until Rufus went and pushed all the wrong buttons. ]
But the fact of the matter is I'm all you got. You're not gonna find a whole lot of sympathy down here, so the sooner you learn you're not the one calling the shots, the better off you'll be.
[ He jabs a finger down the street a ways, at one of the many shops all crammed together, sign swaying lazily in the midday breeze. ]
Weapon shop's right over there. Go get yourself armed.
[If Rufus is pushing all the wrong buttons, then so is Alec. He can feel another “fuck you” right on the tip of his tongue, begging to be released, but this time he thinks better of it. And yeah, he holds onto that bag, gripping it tight and then slinging it over his shoulder. He’ll sell his goddamn clothes if he has to; it’d be more helpful than him, right now.]
Don’t talk down to me. [Cold, sharp. There’s only so much of Alec’s attitude he’ll take, even if he expects the other man to deal with his own.
With that, he’s going to turn on his heel and head towards the vendor. The man, initially put-off by Rufus’ bad mood, helps this grouchy customer all the same — and minutes later, Rufus has a familiar weapon held in one hand, along with a gun strap to keep it slotted neatly against his back: an automatic shotgun.
A far cry from his, of course, which is custom made and balanced just right. But though it’s basic, it packs a punch, it’ll get the job done, and he knows how to use it.
Is he returning to Alec? No. You come over here, you jerk.]
[ He can do whatever he damn well pleases, including talking down to Rufus motherfucking Shinra. But it's just as well he holds his tongue - both of them do, even if Alec isn't aware of it - and Rufus stalks off to go look down his nose at the vendor or whatever the fuck.
Alec seriously considers just leaving, just splitting back to his home and hiding in his room of monitors and computer equipment while Rufus flounders around out here on his own. It's very temping, but there's some part of him that just won't let him do it.
Rufus' dad sent him down here as a punishment, but Alec sees it as a lesson, and ditching the guy won't make him learn anything. Maybe he still won't learn anything, but Alec has the opportunity to try.
He's not in the weapon shop for long, but it's long enough for Alec to cool off somewhat. He still hates Rufus Shinra and everything he stands for with his entire being, and that will probably never change, but he's less immediately angry.
But of course Rufus is still being a brat. Alec shoves his hands in his pockets and wanders over, as if he was totally headed that way anyway. ]
[Rufus seems to be in a similar mood, if not purposefully icier. Still, he glances at Alec as he comes this way, satisfied that he doesn't have to make the trek back to him like some trained dog.]
Yeah.
[He holds out the shotgun by its stock to show him. Basic, but well-made for something you find in the dredges of Wall Market.]
And now I've got maybe 100 gil to work with. You going to share your big plans that require me to use a boomstick to earn income?
[ Let him have his petty victory. Alec is (somewhat) trying to be the bigger man here. No bets on how long that will actually last before Rufus' whole "rich kid, big man in charge" shtick gets under his skin again. ]
Well, I was figuring you could shoot some things. You know, work off some of that aggression and rake in a little gil at the same time.
[ He gives that shotgun a once over, an eyebrow hiking up. ]
I never would have figured you for a shotgun kind of guy.
Edited (go away extra bracket!!) 2020-04-29 18:33 (UTC)
[His smile comes back, though it's thin, strained, and obviously put on to be patronizing.]
You offering yourself up as a target?
[don't make him shoot you
He scoffs, though, not expecting an answer. Rufus lifts the shotgun up at an angle, giving its stock a single spin like it was an oversized, very deadly baton.]
What kind of guy did you expect me to be? You should see the one I have at home.
[ He grins right back, a wide and sharp thing that shows too many teeth, as if to say "just try it". If Rufus is going to be patronizing, then he's more than earned the right to be irritating. ]
Dunno. Something with a little more finesse, maybe.
[ Like a gold-plated pistol or some such bs. (Ha.) ]
Anyway, come on, I know a guy.
[ Dealing info doesn't always pay the bills, and a great deal of Alec's work is done for free, despite the front that he puts up with Rufus and anyone else who can more than afford to pay him, so he dabbles in odd jobs now and then. It so happens that Wall Market is the home of one of Alec's many contacts - a man who keeps his ear to the ground about the troubles all over the slums and points him in the direction of any gil to be found. ]
[Let’s not talk about gold-plated pistols. Rufus isn’t that Shinra.
Still, he follows without giving him any more lip. There are plenty of contacts to be made in Wall Market, a place that even Shinra couldn’t be bothered to touch, and he’s not surprised to hear that Alec “knows a guy”. It was part of the reason why he reached out in the first place.
So he follows, the crowd buzzing all around them, clumped together at the vendors touting sales and rare items like schools of fish. Rufus passes by and they don't even say a word, don't even turn their heads; the clothes have their desired effect, he has to admit that much.]
A shotgun demands attention. Gets straight to the point. Like how I prefer to do business.
[Except when he's planning a secret assassination plot to murder his father.]
[ As far as Alec is concerned, one Shinra is no different from the other. He has yet to be proven wrong. ]
Can you go like twenty-four hours without saying the b-word? Just curious.
[ Get your head out of the office, Rufus!!
After a bit of walking, Alec veers off the beaten path down a little side street and into the open front door of what can only be an eatery of some kind. The place smells of grease and maybe something burning, but it's probably fine. Though it's mostly empty, there are a few people sitting miserably around the mismatched tables and cobbled-together booths, still wearing their nighttime finery and fighting off hangovers with plates of greasy something-or-other. It's best not to look.
Alec zeroes in on a booth in the corner, where a scraggly fellow in a stocking hat is hunched over the table, snoring loudly. He might be drooling a little.
Before he slides into the seat across from the man, he says to Rufus, ]
[He was born and bred for business; that’s like telling him to stop breathing air. His mind’s been melded to think in how he can better strike deals (manipulate) to get what he wants. And if not that, find a more forcible way to do it. Daddy would be proud, no doubt.
But he doesn’t offer much of anything else as they walk. When they near the eatery, he smells it before he sees it — and the interior confirms what he had imagined. A place for the bad decisions of the night before to settle in, to let them rot and stink in the daylight and let one’s body deal with the consequences.
This really is below him.
Rufus isn’t an ignorant man, despite how much money he’s worth. He knows what life is like in the slums (and maybe that’s just worse, for he does nothing about it, just like his father), and he isn’t surprised to see such an unflattering group of grounders congregated in one small space. But it drives home his situation, illustrates that he’s not where he should be. For the first time since being dropped off on the lower plate, it bothers him in a way that runs deeper than mere agitation.
Maybe that’s why, after sliding in his seat next to Alec, he responds by hitting his palm on the booth to get the sleeping man's attention, jostling a lopsided napkin holder in dire need of a refill.]
[ Oh for the love of- can Rufus go two seconds without feeling the need to be in charge of everything? Apparently fucking not, and he catches Alec off-guard so much that his knee-jerk reaction is to pull a move that would probably have his old mentor laughing until he cried if he saw it.
He gives Rufus a solid smack on the back of the head. ]
What did I just fucking say?
[ Thankfully, or not so thankfully in Rufus' case, their man is a sound sleeper - or else a very good actor. He doesn't so much as stir.
Alec leans around his less-than-helpful compatriot to catch the attention of the woman behind the counter, waving his hand and motioning to their sleeping friend. She nods in understanding and disappears into the kitchen. ]
Until you know how things work, maybe let me do the talking, huh?
[Did Alec just hit him on the back of the head? The motion is so sudden that it jars him right out of trying to get the man’s attention and straight into indignant disapproval.]
Do that again, and I really will put holes through you.
[They’re really coming off as great buddies, aren’t they.
Despite his irritation, Rufus casts around to get a feel of what’s going on. Alec’s getting the attention of someone else, no doubt to signal that he wants to strike up more than just idle conversation. So, this hole-in-the-wall has a whole process? He’d expect that from someone like Don Corneo and his bevy of lackeys, but he isn’t sure that’s the level of questionable they’re working with today.
But Alec is right, though he’d never say it. He doesn’t know for sure.]
I’m not going to hold my tongue if there’s something important to say.
[Just so YOU KNOW. Rufus crosses his arms and leans back against the booth, waiting.]
[ Once again, the look Alec shoots his way dares him to try it. Rufus is not going to put holes in the one guy down here helping him out - even if he is being a shit about it. ]
Yeah, you do that.
[ Rufus is free to sit there pouting like a petulant child for a bit, because it takes another few moments for the place's lone waitress to reappear, bearing a plate of something that probably started life as food but is now more like 90% gravy. There's some fries in there? Maybe?
In any case, it looks horrendous, and smells like they probably dumped the contents of the kitchen's grease trap into it. The woman slides the plate in front of their sleeping friend without ceremony and heads back to her place behind the counter. From there, it doesn't take long for the man across the table to awaken, apparently stirred by the smell of mid-afternoon breakfast. ]
Huh, wuzzat?
[ He sits up rather abruptly, blinking a few times. A grin splits through his facial hair when he spots Alec and Rufus, and it somehow gets even wider when he spots the plate of food. He sets in with gusto. It's safe to say a good portion of that gravy makes it into his beard. ]
Alec! Been a while. I figured you didn't have any more use for little ol' me.
I always have a use for your ugly mug, Bobby. [ He jerks a thumb at Rufus, and as easily as anything says, ] This is my buddy Reeve. He's new in town, looking for work. Preferably the kind he can do with bullets.
[Even Rufus can’t avoid crinkling his nose at the sight of… something on a plate being brought out and slid before the sleeping man. It looks awful and it smells worse. He wouldn’t even feed it to his dog. But lo and behold, the scent is enough to awaken Alec’s contact, who then proceeds dig into the stuff like he hasn’t eaten in a decade as Rufus watches. It’s a truly nauseating sight, observing the gravy-like substance stick to his facial hair; this is ten times worse than watching Palmer melt butter into his tea.
At least he’s a jovial sort, which is a promising start, though there’s no way Shinra’s heir is going to stow away his frown, not when the stench of that food is swirling between them. He chimes in anyway, eyes fixed on Bobby.]
And preferably the kind that pays well, too. Heard good things about you, after all.
[Which is bullshit — he’s heard nothing about this mess of a man until now.]
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finalflight2020-04-22 12:49 pm
no subject
The remark about rolling in money is thoroughly ignored. He’ll have to do a lot of that — ignoring — to get Alec to say anything helpful, he thinks.]
I’ll do what it takes. Even if I have to play the part of desperate grounder.
[Given the unwavering way he says it, his determination has only been stoked by his father’s punishment.]
I’m guessing you know where to start, too.
no subject
Buddy, I hate to break it to you, but starting now, you are a desperate grounder.
[ If an extremely determined one. He can find a lot of faults with Rufus, some imagined, some real, but he certainly can't fault his drive. The guy was willing to kill his own father to get to the top. ]
I might have an idea or two, but first a couple of things: One, how good are you in a fight? And two, you better come up with an alias before I come up with one for you.
no subject
I'm only dressed like one.
[Your clothes! Are wrinkly!! Alec!!
But even so, Rufus clicks his tongue at the set of questions.]
I'm not bad in a fight. No SOLDIER, but a good shot with a gun if you can find one for me. [Because he assumes that Alec's asking for a reason, and that reason would indeed require a bit of fighting and/or violence. This means the situation would be far more advantageous if he could have some manner of firearm holstered against him. As for an alias-]
You mean you're not just going to introduce me to everyone as "Junior", huh?
no subject
I very strongly considered it, but you've had a rough day so I figured I'd throw you a bone. It's on the table if you can't think of anything decent, though.
[ Guns aren't terribly hard to come by down here. There are weapon shops pretty much everywhere, but that shouldn't be a problem. Might be better for Rufus to be armed no matter what, just in case. ]
This leads to thing number three: how much money do you actually have?
no subject
I'm not going to let you keep calling me Junior. You've gotten away with it long enough. If you want to call me something false, then call me…
[He mashes together names in his head. Runs through the Shinra personnel list, tumbles them around like a lotto and spits out the most reasonable amalgamation he can think of.
A mundane name, so he thinks of a mundane man. At least the “R” is shared.] Reeve. [Last name, he needs a last name. Whose last name could he steal that wouldn’t raise eyebrows in an introduction? None that he knows— except for a man that was never given one. Sephiroth. Can’t go by it completely, though, so what about—] Roth. Reeve Roth.
[There, a name. Call him by it if you want to, Alec, but it’s temporary and he’ll not spend hours mulling it over.
He gestures at Alec’s bag. What money he has is in there, though the other man’ll have to dig around in his pants pockets to find it.]
Loose change, at best. About three thousand.
no subject
Really, all this tells him is Rufus really needs to get out of the office more.
(And now he has.) ]
Well okay, Reeve. [ Ick, that's a little weird. ] Let's just go with R, since you seem to like that letter enough.
Three thousand is probably just enough to get you a halfway decent weapon. Doesn't leave you anything for food and lodgings, though.
no subject
[#sassy, but he continues.]
What about all that money I gave you for the job?
[All that money that used to be his, you know. Do you feel that pull of expectation and obligation, Alec?]
no subject
He does indeed feel that pull of expectation, and he doesn't like it at all. ]
You mean my money? My money that I am in no way obligated to share with you? That money?
no subject
Yeah, that money. The money you wouldn’t have were it not for me in the first place.
[Spin an arrangement, his mind says.]
...You’d be reimbursed once I’m back where I need to be. Double the amount of what you spent. Consider it an investment for the future.
no subject
[ You know, business? Rufus is supposedly very big on that sort of thing.
With no ceremony, Alec un-slings his bag from his shoulder and shoves it at Rufus again, giving it a little shake so it jingles - whether that's the ungodly amount of metal hanging from the clothes inside, or the gil still sitting in the pockets is up for debate. ]
If you want cash, you need to earn it just like everybody else. I am not your bank.
no subject
I'm asking for a loan, not a hand-out.
[Said like he's the one who's got the right to be insulted this time. He might have been born into wealth and luxury, but he doesn't like being perceived as someone who's too lazy to put in the effort to achieve his goals. He's not begging for help, he's trying to arrange something mutually beneficial for both parties, he thinks.
He narrows his eyes at the other man.]
So then what good are you? If you're planning on pointing me in the right direction for some work, then do it. Otherwise, stop wasting my time.
no subject
If you truly think I'm that useless, you wouldn't have called me in the first place. I'm not your friend, not your bank, and I'm not lending you money. Not now.
[ Which would imply that he had been thinking about it, until Rufus went and pushed all the wrong buttons. ]
But the fact of the matter is I'm all you got. You're not gonna find a whole lot of sympathy down here, so the sooner you learn you're not the one calling the shots, the better off you'll be.
[ He jabs a finger down the street a ways, at one of the many shops all crammed together, sign swaying lazily in the midday breeze. ]
Weapon shop's right over there. Go get yourself armed.
no subject
Don’t talk down to me. [Cold, sharp. There’s only so much of Alec’s attitude he’ll take, even if he expects the other man to deal with his own.
With that, he’s going to turn on his heel and head towards the vendor. The man, initially put-off by Rufus’ bad mood, helps this grouchy customer all the same — and minutes later, Rufus has a familiar weapon held in one hand, along with a gun strap to keep it slotted neatly against his back: an automatic shotgun.
A far cry from his, of course, which is custom made and balanced just right. But though it’s basic, it packs a punch, it’ll get the job done, and he knows how to use it.
Is he returning to Alec? No. You come over here, you jerk.]
no subject
Alec seriously considers just leaving, just splitting back to his home and hiding in his room of monitors and computer equipment while Rufus flounders around out here on his own. It's very temping, but there's some part of him that just won't let him do it.
Rufus' dad sent him down here as a punishment, but Alec sees it as a lesson, and ditching the guy won't make him learn anything. Maybe he still won't learn anything, but Alec has the opportunity to try.
He's not in the weapon shop for long, but it's long enough for Alec to cool off somewhat. He still hates Rufus Shinra and everything he stands for with his entire being, and that will probably never change, but he's less immediately angry.
But of course Rufus is still being a brat. Alec shoves his hands in his pockets and wanders over, as if he was totally headed that way anyway. ]
You get what you need?
no subject
Yeah.
[He holds out the shotgun by its stock to show him. Basic, but well-made for something you find in the dredges of Wall Market.]
And now I've got maybe 100 gil to work with. You going to share your big plans that require me to use a boomstick to earn income?
no subject
Well, I was figuring you could shoot some things. You know, work off some of that aggression and rake in a little gil at the same time.
[ He gives that shotgun a once over, an eyebrow hiking up. ]
I never would have figured you for a shotgun kind of guy.
no subject
You offering yourself up as a target?
[don't make him shoot you
He scoffs, though, not expecting an answer. Rufus lifts the shotgun up at an angle, giving its stock a single spin like it was an oversized, very deadly baton.]
What kind of guy did you expect me to be? You should see the one I have at home.
no subject
Dunno. Something with a little more finesse, maybe.
[ Like a gold-plated pistol or some such bs. (Ha.) ]
Anyway, come on, I know a guy.
[ Dealing info doesn't always pay the bills, and a great deal of Alec's work is done for free, despite the front that he puts up with Rufus and anyone else who can more than afford to pay him, so he dabbles in odd jobs now and then. It so happens that Wall Market is the home of one of Alec's many contacts - a man who keeps his ear to the ground about the troubles all over the slums and points him in the direction of any gil to be found. ]
no subject
Still, he follows without giving him any more lip. There are plenty of contacts to be made in Wall Market, a place that even Shinra couldn’t be bothered to touch, and he’s not surprised to hear that Alec “knows a guy”. It was part of the reason why he reached out in the first place.
So he follows, the crowd buzzing all around them, clumped together at the vendors touting sales and rare items like schools of fish. Rufus passes by and they don't even say a word, don't even turn their heads; the clothes have their desired effect, he has to admit that much.]
A shotgun demands attention. Gets straight to the point. Like how I prefer to do business.
[Except when he's planning a secret assassination plot to murder his father.]
no subject
Can you go like twenty-four hours without saying the b-word? Just curious.
[ Get your head out of the office, Rufus!!
After a bit of walking, Alec veers off the beaten path down a little side street and into the open front door of what can only be an eatery of some kind. The place smells of grease and maybe something burning, but it's probably fine. Though it's mostly empty, there are a few people sitting miserably around the mismatched tables and cobbled-together booths, still wearing their nighttime finery and fighting off hangovers with plates of greasy something-or-other. It's best not to look.
Alec zeroes in on a booth in the corner, where a scraggly fellow in a stocking hat is hunched over the table, snoring loudly. He might be drooling a little.
Before he slides into the seat across from the man, he says to Rufus, ]
Try not to say anything to embarrass me.
no subject
But he doesn’t offer much of anything else as they walk. When they near the eatery, he smells it before he sees it — and the interior confirms what he had imagined. A place for the bad decisions of the night before to settle in, to let them rot and stink in the daylight and let one’s body deal with the consequences.
This really is below him.
Rufus isn’t an ignorant man, despite how much money he’s worth. He knows what life is like in the slums (and maybe that’s just worse, for he does nothing about it, just like his father), and he isn’t surprised to see such an unflattering group of grounders congregated in one small space. But it drives home his situation, illustrates that he’s not where he should be. For the first time since being dropped off on the lower plate, it bothers him in a way that runs deeper than mere agitation.
Maybe that’s why, after sliding in his seat next to Alec, he responds by hitting his palm on the booth to get the sleeping man's attention, jostling a lopsided napkin holder in dire need of a refill.]
Hey. Rise and shine.
no subject
He gives Rufus a solid smack on the back of the head. ]
What did I just fucking say?
[ Thankfully, or not so thankfully in Rufus' case, their man is a sound sleeper - or else a very good actor. He doesn't so much as stir.
Alec leans around his less-than-helpful compatriot to catch the attention of the woman behind the counter, waving his hand and motioning to their sleeping friend. She nods in understanding and disappears into the kitchen. ]
Until you know how things work, maybe let me do the talking, huh?
no subject
Do that again, and I really will put holes through you.
[They’re really coming off as great buddies, aren’t they.
Despite his irritation, Rufus casts around to get a feel of what’s going on. Alec’s getting the attention of someone else, no doubt to signal that he wants to strike up more than just idle conversation. So, this hole-in-the-wall has a whole process? He’d expect that from someone like Don Corneo and his bevy of lackeys, but he isn’t sure that’s the level of questionable they’re working with today.
But Alec is right, though he’d never say it. He doesn’t know for sure.]
I’m not going to hold my tongue if there’s something important to say.
[Just so YOU KNOW. Rufus crosses his arms and leans back against the booth, waiting.]
no subject
Yeah, you do that.
[ Rufus is free to sit there pouting like a petulant child for a bit, because it takes another few moments for the place's lone waitress to reappear, bearing a plate of something that probably started life as food but is now more like 90% gravy. There's some fries in there? Maybe?
In any case, it looks horrendous, and smells like they probably dumped the contents of the kitchen's grease trap into it. The woman slides the plate in front of their sleeping friend without ceremony and heads back to her place behind the counter. From there, it doesn't take long for the man across the table to awaken, apparently stirred by the smell of mid-afternoon breakfast. ]
Huh, wuzzat?
[ He sits up rather abruptly, blinking a few times. A grin splits through his facial hair when he spots Alec and Rufus, and it somehow gets even wider when he spots the plate of food. He sets in with gusto. It's safe to say a good portion of that gravy makes it into his beard. ]
Alec! Been a while. I figured you didn't have any more use for little ol' me.
I always have a use for your ugly mug, Bobby. [ He jerks a thumb at Rufus, and as easily as anything says, ] This is my buddy Reeve. He's new in town, looking for work. Preferably the kind he can do with bullets.
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At least he’s a jovial sort, which is a promising start, though there’s no way Shinra’s heir is going to stow away his frown, not when the stench of that food is swirling between them. He chimes in anyway, eyes fixed on Bobby.]
And preferably the kind that pays well, too. Heard good things about you, after all.
[Which is bullshit — he’s heard nothing about this mess of a man until now.]
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dusts this off...no obligation to continue if you don't wanna!
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