Lights, camera (not again! >>)... Action!animus_inspireAugust 18 2009, 20:44:21 UTC
[[Whilst there was a sharp edge of -was it actually pleasant? Hard to define- anticipation, Reeve was exhausted and he had a distinct sense that seeing Tseng at this moment in time could very well weary him even further. But as it had been a while since they had met for 'drinks and business' and there was always something to be said for their meetings...
Sucking on what strength he had inside, Reeve had set about purpose in these temporary quarters. It had taken him a painstakingly long amount of time in preparation; of fingers twisting with a frustrating lack of fine motor control around the buttons of a shirt not really meant for him, water not wiping clear the sheen of malady, hair unkempt scratched back into the slightest semblance of style, and, all the while, a wheeze that would outdo his own father in his last days.
Hojo was indeed not around. Reeve had watched, with a hidden degree of wry amusement as the Professor shuffled off from his side. The mutters had been interjected with shrill chirrups of annoyance, and those into a disturbingly satisfied cackle as he left.
Drawing on that, Reeve got across the room to answer the door, and propping himself with one hidden hand on the frame spoke with a light bite...]]
Judging from Hojo's exit... it may be wise that we both watch our backs... for a time.
[[His usual smoothness of voice is broken up, but Reeve is concealing that fact as best he can amidst the usual rhythms of speaking. The pauses however are a little too long, giving the meter of his words a barely off-momentum sound.
Still, that's not to say he should have lost his own particular sense of humour and he smiles crookedly at Tseng with his words]]
[[ooc: maan that was longer than anticipated - short n snappy coming up~! ♥
Oh and I hope you don't mind me referencing Hojo in there? Let me know and I'll change anything you want, anything at all!]]
This is my srs face. >|winchester300August 20 2009, 12:47:09 UTC
[Tseng does not return the smile, sends a curt nod in greeting and brushes past into the room beyond. The smell of detergents and alcohol is no less strong here than it is in the corridor; this whole wing of HQ is saturated with the scent of repairing bodies and injured pride.
Reeve is, perhaps, the epitome of both right now. Tseng turns, a few steps into the room, to regard that pallid face, and resists the urge to tuck both hands into his pockets. They rest by his side instead. Controlled. But still it is not easy.
He ignores the other man's comment just as he ignores the smile. The sound of lacerated lungs makes everything else dull by comparison.]
Commissioner. [His voice is cold, face expressionless.] How is the wound?
>( This is my pissed off faceanimus_inspireAugust 20 2009, 18:26:22 UTC
[Reeve takes a step back as Tseng moves past him. Effort to start this ‘meeting’ off on a lighter foot - the verbal sleight of hand being effectively quashed - he gives out what would normally be a soft sigh. It emerges instead as a mild rattle, masked by the door as it swooshes shut behind them.
Straightening his spine to full length hurts but Reeve does so anyway, his nature insisting that he takes a few steps towards Tseng; deliberate and considered - one by one by one - until he reaches out, insouciant, to clench fingers stiffly around a chair back.
Bringing his eyes up, he meets Tseng’s own - calculating, assessing. No emotion - and Reeve has to clamp down on anger rising inside. So this will be different. This time.]
Tseng. [Acknowledgment, introductions. Politely spoken in return. If this is the direction you wish to take-]
...As can be expected. [And to add fuel to the fire, have another smile, a hint of bitterness in tone now-]
This is my disapproving facewinchester300August 21 2009, 13:49:56 UTC
[Well enough. Ah, so this conversation promises to be barbed. A fracture frown line forms between his brows in answer to Reeve's second smile; Tseng stands still as the commissioner rights his posture and approaches, step by heavy step.
But there will be no meeting in the middle ground. Not this time nor any other. Fairness is a virtue Tseng possesses only when it is advantageous.
Regrettably, this is never where Reeve is concerned.]
I'm in good health. [He answers, noting the other man's white knuckles against the brown of the chair's backrest. And, despite telling himself he has come only to discuss business, as there is little to no time for anything else, Tseng allows the sound of wretched respiration to cause him distraction.]
But then, I haven't been in Sephiroth's path recently. [His voice is still light, though his gaze is no longer frigid.] May I remind you of your status, Commissioner? If rushing blindly into battle is what you really prefer... then perhaps the WRO deserves a more responsible leader.
This is my incredulous faceanimus_inspireAugust 21 2009, 20:09:28 UTC
[There is something of a temper, rarely shown, rising in Reeve. His face however remains stoic, despite a hint of colour reaching sallow cheeks.
He gives a cursory nod to Tseng's first words. They are undeniably logical, and so the -pointed- emphasis and the bite behind them are disregarded in favour of Reeve's usual pragmaticism.
The next words however test his resolve.]
...Hm.
[The audacity of Tseng is not entirely unexpected, but no less galling. Reeve has considered his actions and certainly has remorse over the events that took place at Shinra Mansion, but given the hours of consideration, now not for the reasons resting as challenge in the Turk's words]
...Responsible leader.
[a moments pause]
Forgive me... for not being so callous a leader as to dismiss the lives of those who follow my instruction... who are my responsibility.
[There is a definite message in his words. His voice has remained calm but Reeve finds himself suddenly stifling a gripping choke. Pausing to break his eyes from Tseng and turn his head, the Commissioner returns his gaze heatedly]
You remain as black and white as... the suit you wear. And you would do the same, for your own.
This is my (belated) exasperated face.winchester300September 9 2009, 10:51:21 UTC
[The frown line deepens and Tseng steps forward, out of the circumference of professionalism and appropriate distance.]
I would do the same for my own, but I'm not the one carrying the promise of World Regenesis on my back. I am a Turk, a mere instrument and a means to an end for the men I serve. Certainly, the best of us have been carefully calibrated, but as you know... even the best of us can be replaced.
[He takes a small breath, catches it before it can become a sigh.
You should have known better, he does not say. The words, too personal, would have recalled more of his own vulnerability. So Tseng keeps his back straight, though the walls of forced politeness start to crumble around them. Composure is harder to maintain, when it is almost certain Reeve knows the coldness is forced.]
And I am well aware of my own limitations. Were you, when you decided to join the fray against Sephiroth? What did you hope to achieve, when even your trained soldiers couldn't hold the floor?
Sucking on what strength he had inside, Reeve had set about purpose in these temporary quarters. It had taken him a painstakingly long amount of time in preparation; of fingers twisting with a frustrating lack of fine motor control around the buttons of a shirt not really meant for him, water not wiping clear the sheen of malady, hair unkempt scratched back into the slightest semblance of style, and, all the while, a wheeze that would outdo his own father in his last days.
Hojo was indeed not around. Reeve had watched, with a hidden degree of wry amusement as the Professor shuffled off from his side. The mutters had been interjected with shrill chirrups of annoyance, and those into a disturbingly satisfied cackle as he left.
Drawing on that, Reeve got across the room to answer the door, and propping himself with one hidden hand on the frame spoke with a light bite...]]
Judging from Hojo's exit... it may be wise that we both watch our backs... for a time.
[[His usual smoothness of voice is broken up, but Reeve is concealing that fact as best he can amidst the usual rhythms of speaking. The pauses however are a little too long, giving the meter of his words a barely off-momentum sound.
Still, that's not to say he should have lost his own particular sense of humour and he smiles crookedly at Tseng with his words]]
[[ooc: maan that was longer than anticipated - short n snappy coming up~! ♥
Oh and I hope you don't mind me referencing Hojo in there? Let me know and I'll change anything you want, anything at all!]]
Reply
Reeve is, perhaps, the epitome of both right now. Tseng turns, a few steps into the room, to regard that pallid face, and resists the urge to tuck both hands into his pockets. They rest by his side instead. Controlled. But still it is not easy.
He ignores the other man's comment just as he ignores the smile. The sound of lacerated lungs makes everything else dull by comparison.]
Commissioner. [His voice is cold, face expressionless.] How is the wound?
Reply
Straightening his spine to full length hurts but Reeve does so anyway, his nature insisting that he takes a few steps towards Tseng; deliberate and considered - one by one by one - until he reaches out, insouciant, to clench fingers stiffly around a chair back.
Bringing his eyes up, he meets Tseng’s own - calculating, assessing. No emotion - and Reeve has to clamp down on anger rising inside. So this will be different. This time.]
Tseng. [Acknowledgment, introductions. Politely spoken in return. If this is the direction you wish to take-]
...As can be expected. [And to add fuel to the fire, have another smile, a hint of bitterness in tone now-]
You are looking... well enough.
Reply
But there will be no meeting in the middle ground. Not this time nor any other. Fairness is a virtue Tseng possesses only when it is advantageous.
Regrettably, this is never where Reeve is concerned.]
I'm in good health. [He answers, noting the other man's white knuckles against the brown of the chair's backrest. And, despite telling himself he has come only to discuss business, as there is little to no time for anything else, Tseng allows the sound of wretched respiration to cause him distraction.]
But then, I haven't been in Sephiroth's path recently. [His voice is still light, though his gaze is no longer frigid.] May I remind you of your status, Commissioner? If rushing blindly into battle is what you really prefer... then perhaps the WRO deserves a more responsible leader.
Reply
He gives a cursory nod to Tseng's first words. They are undeniably logical, and so the -pointed- emphasis and the bite behind them are disregarded in favour of Reeve's usual pragmaticism.
The next words however test his resolve.]
...Hm.
[The audacity of Tseng is not entirely unexpected, but no less galling. Reeve has considered his actions and certainly has remorse over the events that took place at Shinra Mansion, but given the hours of consideration, now not for the reasons resting as challenge in the Turk's words]
...Responsible leader.
[a moments pause]
Forgive me... for not being so callous a leader as to dismiss the lives of those who follow my instruction... who are my responsibility.
[There is a definite message in his words. His voice has remained calm but Reeve finds himself suddenly stifling a gripping choke. Pausing to break his eyes from Tseng and turn his head, the Commissioner returns his gaze heatedly]
You remain as black and white as... the suit you wear. And you would do the same, for your own.
Reply
I would do the same for my own, but I'm not the one carrying the promise of World Regenesis on my back. I am a Turk, a mere instrument and a means to an end for the men I serve. Certainly, the best of us have been carefully calibrated, but as you know... even the best of us can be replaced.
[He takes a small breath, catches it before it can become a sigh.
You should have known better, he does not say. The words, too personal, would have recalled more of his own vulnerability. So Tseng keeps his back straight, though the walls of forced politeness start to crumble around them. Composure is harder to maintain, when it is almost certain Reeve knows the coldness is forced.]
And I am well aware of my own limitations. Were you, when you decided to join the fray against Sephiroth? What did you hope to achieve, when even your trained soldiers couldn't hold the floor?
Reply
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