Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7 > What You Carry With You // What You Leave Behind
.Mirror//024
Slouched back in his chair, Rufus Shinra contemplated the cracks in his office ceiling -- compliments of time and perhaps some foundation shaking thumps from WEAPON's visit all those years back. Whatever the reason, he couldn't entirely recall seeing them there before, but... it mattered little. He was feeling tired and altogether mentally drained. It had been another one of those days. One of those days when he woke up and felt as if he had slept two hours rather than seven, with puffy eyes and a crick in his neck. One of those nights when not even expensive sheets and a specially made mattress helped him sleep well -- for Rufus did sleep, no questioning that. Rather one would say it was the quality of sleep that bothered him.
Actually, Rufus would much rather refer to it as a pain in the ass than bother quantifying and compartmentalizing things. As long as he was lucid enough to get work done... that was all that mattered. And at least that night of sleep had been dreamless.
He could recall a time when personal comfort meant the world to him -- plush offices and spacious rooms. Decadent social gatherings. Toasts to the company and executives getting sloshed, threatening to grope and kiss under holiday mistletoe and often acting on that warning. When to get woken before ten would mean Certain Doom and his mornings revolved around personal chefs and chauffeurs and a suit fresh from the launderer. Little did he know, years earlier with power newly thrust into his waiting grasp, that things would be changing. And by changing one could easily substitute "turning upside down."
...Still, his "office" was rather plush. Cramped but plush. And on more than one occasion, he and his Turks did get drunk and toast the remains of his company. But gone were the chauffeurs. And most personal anythings were also gone. Suits were rarely pressed and meals were rarely of the multi-course variety.
Although Tseng was rather handy in the kitchen when culinary inspiration struck. Rude as well, even more surprisingly.
It would all seem a bit more depressing if he wasn't glad to be alive, a fact that was still fresh in his mind. Though the Geostigma was gone... he would never forget it. Disturbances in sleep and distant achy memories would make sure of that. The heat of WEAPON's blast was also a constant weighted presence in the back of his mind, shiftless and burning. The notion of having cheated death multiple times in ones short and very mortal life.
Rufus shook his head and leaned back, sinking further into the leather cushions like a child unused to plush leather seating. He was tired, perhaps too tired to fully be able to squelch thoughts that should just go away. He considered anchoring both feet onto his desk surface but thought better of it. He would look unprofessional and the paperwork was still there. Uncaring. Waiting.
It seemed such a shame to get out of that position. Especially after the day he had had. Because funds had to be allocated and he had to speak with Dio concerning how money was being spent. Had to discuss certain add-ons to the park -- security and safety features that were perhaps older than Rufus himself. Not to mention the latest quarter's earnings. While Gold Saucer was invaluable to Shinra Inc, it was still more than a pain to deal with the business of running a giant theme park. Even from the shadows. And Dio was a flamboyant man. Excitable.
Annoying to all end.
Still the meeting had gone well. It just managed to tear away a good chunk of time that Rufus should have been doing other things. Like attending to a giant pile of paper that seemed to be growing constantly. Multiplying, it was never ending chain of proposal after proposal. It was almost hypnotic and foreboding and supernatural in a way. Excessive.
He leaned forward with a world weary sigh, pen heavy in his hands as he flipped through a report Reno had sent while checking in with Wallace's oil fields. This was going to take a while to go through. Not that Reno didn't take his job seriously as he did/. In his Reno sort of way. None of this was simple. The oil fields were well and good but they had to look into /other sources of energy. Or at least Wallace needed to have a brighter outlook on finding more of these oil fields because otherwise...
Rufus rubbed his eyes and grabbed a pen. It somehow felt far later than mid-afternoon, but perhaps it was the slow change season. Cool winds blowing in as fall matured into the shrill death-like atmosphere of winter.
But he would consider all of that later. For now he had that report, pages to flip through and mark with inky smudges. The pen flecking notations in barely understandable handwriting, filling margins here and there absently as his eyes quickly followed lines and his mind began to drift and wander.
He wondered briefly what Lockheart was up to.
Curiosity.
Tseng had noticed. He had noticed but didn't bother to say much. For if a bored Turk could be seen as dangerous -- as was evident whenever Reno had some insane scheme on how to spend his vacation time, what could one say about their leader having a bit too much free time. If one could even call it that. It wasn't so much that he was bored, per se, but rather that Rufus didn't have much else other than work. He didn't have free time.
He didn't have any real outlets to work out frustration and mental stagnation either. The shooting range and paperwork. Good, but not enough. Still, Tseng clearly had his qualms, qualms that he had little issue bringing up over coffee hours earlier. An impromptu break from work, post-Dio. Because of all the Turks, of all that was left in his life from the life before, Tseng knew Rufus best, stepping in and not entirely forcing him out of the office. Except that he sort of had.
Rufus stopped in mid pen-stroke, staring blankly down at the sheet of paper before laying the pen on its surface and cracking his neck with a loud, horrific pop. Thinking.
"I am more than a little curious what exactly you are planning, here," Tseng had commented vaguely, smiling lightly behind a coffee cup.
"Pardon?"
Tseng gave the younger man a knowing look. Rufus wasn't stupid. This was small talk. And the light of curiosity glinting within the Turk's eyes had been there since Tifa Lockheart had left the Shinra foyer that one afternoon. Since he had heard the stunning, three day ultimatum that was soon to be up.
"I suppose one could call it... a personal bet. Or perhaps a social experiment." Rufus tented his fingers around the sides of the coffee cup, inhaling the rising aroma before his lips curled smugly in delight. Or whatever emotion he was currently feeling. "She is, after all, a bit of an enigma."
"You wish to see how far you can lead her? Dare I say this is one of your more... insane ideas. Sir."
"You make me sound evil, Tseng. I am merely... interested. How do you gain the trust of a woman such as Tifa Lockheart. How does one become close and personal with someone who is disinterested in gifts? Who cannot be really be bought? She is a puzzle I cannot figure out at this moment. But everyone has their price. Somewhere along the line there is always a way of getting through."
Tseng had smirked and stood up from his seat, glancing at his wristwatch. "I don't think Lockheart would take kindly to being your personal Rubik's Cube."
"I suppose not." Rufus hadn't moved, instead idly staring into the coffee mug. He had almost appeared deep in thought. As if rethinking his plans. And then he shrugged. "I shall have to cross that bridge when I get to it."
"If you get to it." The words were not a question or even challenge, but a statement. Tseng's back was turned.
Rufus stood up. "When. I get to it." His smirk was almost dangerous and held something all-knowing about it. Tseng had turned around then, staring at the blond and nodded slightly.
"When you get to it."
Rufus blinked tiredly, staring down at the paperwork, words run together in tired, squiggly blurs. He would be revisiting the Seventh Heaven the next day. Or rather the next night, once the crowd had diminished. Revisiting and awaiting her positive response. And she would say yes, of that Rufus was certain. Because while her will was strong and her disposition was stubborn, he knew that she would also want to prove him wrong. She would want to prove that he was detestable and entirely self-centered. That things had changed little and he was still the man who had shut her into a gas chamber in order to quell the masses. That she was a better human being. That Shinra was still the same money hungry corporation, looking out for only itself. She had a lot at stake. A lot of core beliefs that probably stemmed far, far back, rode on this.
He wondered just how deep her hatred for him and his company, ran. But at the same time, Rufus knew that this wasn't entirely a matter of hate. This was a matter of pride. That was what was driving her. Tifa Lockheart who had helped save all of Gaia on more than one occasion would want nothing more than to shoot down Rufus Shinra. To reject him.
And to do that in the most dramatic fashion, she would have to say yes. And then deny him.
Rufus leaned back in his seat, paperwork momentarily forgotten again. People were so predictable. So easily manipulated. And, though she was difficult to figure out, Tifa Lockheart was no different, of this he was certain. Things would just take... longer to work out to his liking. They would take more effort. But when he wanted something, he got it, no matter how hard it was to attain. This was no different.
Perseverance and time. And while Rufus wasn't exactly the most patient man, he did enjoy the chase. Even if, in the back of his mind, he knew that this little rabbit knew at least ten different ways to use swift, brute force to take down a fox.
He would just have to watch out for her uppercut.
Slouched back in his chair, Rufus Shinra contemplated the cracks in his office ceiling -- compliments of time and perhaps some foundation shaking thumps from WEAPON's visit all those years back. Whatever the reason, he couldn't entirely recall seeing them there before, but... it mattered little. He was feeling tired and altogether mentally drained. It had been another one of those days. One of those days when he woke up and felt as if he had slept two hours rather than seven, with puffy eyes and a crick in his neck. One of those nights when not even expensive sheets and a specially made mattress helped him sleep well -- for Rufus did sleep, no questioning that. Rather one would say it was the quality of sleep that bothered him.
Actually, Rufus would much rather refer to it as a pain in the ass than bother quantifying and compartmentalizing things. As long as he was lucid enough to get work done... that was all that mattered. And at least that night of sleep had been dreamless.
He could recall a time when personal comfort meant the world to him -- plush offices and spacious rooms. Decadent social gatherings. Toasts to the company and executives getting sloshed, threatening to grope and kiss under holiday mistletoe and often acting on that warning. When to get woken before ten would mean Certain Doom and his mornings revolved around personal chefs and chauffeurs and a suit fresh from the launderer. Little did he know, years earlier with power newly thrust into his waiting grasp, that things would be changing. And by changing one could easily substitute "turning upside down."
...Still, his "office" was rather plush. Cramped but plush. And on more than one occasion, he and his Turks did get drunk and toast the remains of his company. But gone were the chauffeurs. And most personal anythings were also gone. Suits were rarely pressed and meals were rarely of the multi-course variety.
Although Tseng was rather handy in the kitchen when culinary inspiration struck. Rude as well, even more surprisingly.
It would all seem a bit more depressing if he wasn't glad to be alive, a fact that was still fresh in his mind. Though the Geostigma was gone... he would never forget it. Disturbances in sleep and distant achy memories would make sure of that. The heat of WEAPON's blast was also a constant weighted presence in the back of his mind, shiftless and burning. The notion of having cheated death multiple times in ones short and very mortal life.
Rufus shook his head and leaned back, sinking further into the leather cushions like a child unused to plush leather seating. He was tired, perhaps too tired to fully be able to squelch thoughts that should just go away. He considered anchoring both feet onto his desk surface but thought better of it. He would look unprofessional and the paperwork was still there. Uncaring. Waiting.
It seemed such a shame to get out of that position. Especially after the day he had had. Because funds had to be allocated and he had to speak with Dio concerning how money was being spent. Had to discuss certain add-ons to the park -- security and safety features that were perhaps older than Rufus himself. Not to mention the latest quarter's earnings. While Gold Saucer was invaluable to Shinra Inc, it was still more than a pain to deal with the business of running a giant theme park. Even from the shadows. And Dio was a flamboyant man. Excitable.
Annoying to all end.
Still the meeting had gone well. It just managed to tear away a good chunk of time that Rufus should have been doing other things. Like attending to a giant pile of paper that seemed to be growing constantly. Multiplying, it was never ending chain of proposal after proposal. It was almost hypnotic and foreboding and supernatural in a way. Excessive.
He leaned forward with a world weary sigh, pen heavy in his hands as he flipped through a report Reno had sent while checking in with Wallace's oil fields. This was going to take a while to go through. Not that Reno didn't take his job seriously as he did/. In his Reno sort of way. None of this was simple. The oil fields were well and good but they had to look into /other sources of energy. Or at least Wallace needed to have a brighter outlook on finding more of these oil fields because otherwise...
Rufus rubbed his eyes and grabbed a pen. It somehow felt far later than mid-afternoon, but perhaps it was the slow change season. Cool winds blowing in as fall matured into the shrill death-like atmosphere of winter.
But he would consider all of that later. For now he had that report, pages to flip through and mark with inky smudges. The pen flecking notations in barely understandable handwriting, filling margins here and there absently as his eyes quickly followed lines and his mind began to drift and wander.
He wondered briefly what Lockheart was up to.
Curiosity.
Tseng had noticed. He had noticed but didn't bother to say much. For if a bored Turk could be seen as dangerous -- as was evident whenever Reno had some insane scheme on how to spend his vacation time, what could one say about their leader having a bit too much free time. If one could even call it that. It wasn't so much that he was bored, per se, but rather that Rufus didn't have much else other than work. He didn't have free time.
He didn't have any real outlets to work out frustration and mental stagnation either. The shooting range and paperwork. Good, but not enough. Still, Tseng clearly had his qualms, qualms that he had little issue bringing up over coffee hours earlier. An impromptu break from work, post-Dio. Because of all the Turks, of all that was left in his life from the life before, Tseng knew Rufus best, stepping in and not entirely forcing him out of the office. Except that he sort of had.
Rufus stopped in mid pen-stroke, staring blankly down at the sheet of paper before laying the pen on its surface and cracking his neck with a loud, horrific pop. Thinking.
"I am more than a little curious what exactly you are planning, here," Tseng had commented vaguely, smiling lightly behind a coffee cup.
"Pardon?"
Tseng gave the younger man a knowing look. Rufus wasn't stupid. This was small talk. And the light of curiosity glinting within the Turk's eyes had been there since Tifa Lockheart had left the Shinra foyer that one afternoon. Since he had heard the stunning, three day ultimatum that was soon to be up.
"I suppose one could call it... a personal bet. Or perhaps a social experiment." Rufus tented his fingers around the sides of the coffee cup, inhaling the rising aroma before his lips curled smugly in delight. Or whatever emotion he was currently feeling. "She is, after all, a bit of an enigma."
"You wish to see how far you can lead her? Dare I say this is one of your more... insane ideas. Sir."
"You make me sound evil, Tseng. I am merely... interested. How do you gain the trust of a woman such as Tifa Lockheart. How does one become close and personal with someone who is disinterested in gifts? Who cannot be really be bought? She is a puzzle I cannot figure out at this moment. But everyone has their price. Somewhere along the line there is always a way of getting through."
Tseng had smirked and stood up from his seat, glancing at his wristwatch. "I don't think Lockheart would take kindly to being your personal Rubik's Cube."
"I suppose not." Rufus hadn't moved, instead idly staring into the coffee mug. He had almost appeared deep in thought. As if rethinking his plans. And then he shrugged. "I shall have to cross that bridge when I get to it."
"If you get to it." The words were not a question or even challenge, but a statement. Tseng's back was turned.
Rufus stood up. "When. I get to it." His smirk was almost dangerous and held something all-knowing about it. Tseng had turned around then, staring at the blond and nodded slightly.
"When you get to it."
Rufus blinked tiredly, staring down at the paperwork, words run together in tired, squiggly blurs. He would be revisiting the Seventh Heaven the next day. Or rather the next night, once the crowd had diminished. Revisiting and awaiting her positive response. And she would say yes, of that Rufus was certain. Because while her will was strong and her disposition was stubborn, he knew that she would also want to prove him wrong. She would want to prove that he was detestable and entirely self-centered. That things had changed little and he was still the man who had shut her into a gas chamber in order to quell the masses. That she was a better human being. That Shinra was still the same money hungry corporation, looking out for only itself. She had a lot at stake. A lot of core beliefs that probably stemmed far, far back, rode on this.
He wondered just how deep her hatred for him and his company, ran. But at the same time, Rufus knew that this wasn't entirely a matter of hate. This was a matter of pride. That was what was driving her. Tifa Lockheart who had helped save all of Gaia on more than one occasion would want nothing more than to shoot down Rufus Shinra. To reject him.
And to do that in the most dramatic fashion, she would have to say yes. And then deny him.
Rufus leaned back in his seat, paperwork momentarily forgotten again. People were so predictable. So easily manipulated. And, though she was difficult to figure out, Tifa Lockheart was no different, of this he was certain. Things would just take... longer to work out to his liking. They would take more effort. But when he wanted something, he got it, no matter how hard it was to attain. This was no different.
Perseverance and time. And while Rufus wasn't exactly the most patient man, he did enjoy the chase. Even if, in the back of his mind, he knew that this little rabbit knew at least ten different ways to use swift, brute force to take down a fox.
He would just have to watch out for her uppercut.
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