Who: Rufus, with phonecalls to at least Scarlet, probably Reeve
When: Day 46, evening
Location: Gongaga
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Summary: Done for the day, Rufus curls up with a bottle of whiskey and a cell phone.
Note: Working assumption that he is back from his visit with Red by evening and that he obtained Cosmo Canyon whiskey while he was
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She tugged it from her purse, and glanced down at the caller ID. Rufus. Great.
"Shut up for a minute, will you? And don't touch anything or I'll break your arms." Then she snapped the phone open, and demanded, "What?"
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"Scarlet?" he questioningly identified, sounding far more surprised than someone who had just called someone should be. Well that wasn't a whole lot better than Tseng. She probably wouldn't give him a lecture, but he doubted it would be a pleasant conversation, either. Oh well.
"...how are you?"
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For a moment she simply sat with her mouth slightly open, wondering at the words, but more so at the tone of his voice. Where was the dry sarcasm? Maybe, she thought, this was a shockingly inept attempt to cover an embarrassing misdial. Her jaw snapped shut and her eyes flicked to Reeve, then back to the diagram on the table. Eventually, a smirk tugged up a corner of her lips. She etched out a quick calculation in the margin of the sheet, and changed the design accordingly.
Play along, and let him squirm when he realizes he's being being extremely unsmooth? Yes please. Bonus points if I can confuse the hell out of R-- Tuesti in the process.She turned away a bit, as though to field a private conversation, (though when she thought about it, just what the hell was turning away supposed to do?) but, keeping with ( ... )
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"Scarlet. Nicknames. Stop, please." He fell into silence for a brief moment after that, having mostly forgotten that she had also asked him a question. He rolled onto his side and found himself staring at his glass of whiskey, though he didn't bother to reach for it.
"Cosmo Canyon whiskey is good, you know..." he trailed off, then added as an afterthought, "But if you want to try it you'll have to get your own."
[[OOC: Apparently we are going with random. XDDDD And yeah, I second the thought of Reeve popping in every now and then.]]
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Cosmo Canyon whiskey is good, you know... She almost bought it there, when she realized what this was, what was wrong. It took the sort of self-control she normally didn't bother with not to drop right there and laugh until her mascara ran and she couldn't breathe. It was a good thing she wasn't facing Reeve, though, as the look on her face would have given away the depth of her amusement ( ... )
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"Nick. Names." How many times did he have to remind the woman? But he didn't dwell on that for very long as the last of Scarlet's words caught his attention. "Why is it mean?" He wasn't too likely to spend much time around her on a good day, much less one where he was bored and stressed enough to get himself smashed. He wouldn't even be talking to her if it hadn't been completely random. He seemed to ponder that for a second, a brief pause before he spoke again.
"You know what, Scarlet?"
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She shifted her weight onto one foot and leaned her hip against the table. Curiosity flooded her, and she lowered her voice a fraction, faux confidentiality.
"No, Dear. What?"
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No matter how much Reeve wanted to ignore the situation he found himself in -45 minutes of yet more flaunting, pouting and sick twisted Scarlet behaviour- it was genuinely hard when the work was there, laid out in front of him. Strange. He was Commissioner now, not just an engineer, not head of Urban Development... yet still every single scratch of graphite on paper sucked him back in.
Things designed to kill he did not gladly pore over, but, after coordinating publicity campaigns and the requisite, but tough, humanitarian responses for disasters and tragedies done the only way possible - an effective shut down of Reeve Tuesti, the man - the logistics and calculations, the absolutes of the physical attributes of matter that in this bedlam actually made some damn sense to him, was quite irresistible. Besides that he, rather... the WRO, had made it quite clear to the witch that defensive weaponry was the order of the day ( ... )
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"I don't like talking to you."
The statement was followed by the click of the connection closing. He had hung up.
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Whirling around, she saw that Reeve had made changes to the design despite her warning, and very nearly threw the cell phone at him. Dammit! What she really needed right now was someone to bitch to, not Reeve. And while wounded pride demanded she tell Reeve because it would humiliate the hell out of that miserable little brat, she wasn't an idiot.
Her nails dug painfully into her palms. All things considered, it was a good thing Reeve Tuesti didn't know what that was all about. It didn't keep her from growling at him.
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"...Suck it?
Damn well hope that your darling has a sore throat and you are recommending lozenges, otherwise..."
He marked an "x" by menu items 4, 6 and 49.
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A moment later and he was back to phonebook roulette. Stupid? Yes. Childish? Yes. The sound of the phone ringing being an oddly nice sound? Also yes. Maybe he just liked being stupid on rare occasion.
Even drunk, Rufus ShinRa was not one to admit to being lonely.
Who had he called this time? It better not be Scarlet again. And he still would prefer it not be Tseng either. After all, he wouldn't want him to take back that statement he made about Rufus not being a child.
[[OOC: Cue Reeve's phone ringing.]]
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Swallowing in a fashion that could be called guilty or at least embarrassed Reeve flipped up the phone and the brown haired man answered how he always did, polite and fairly even toned "Hello, Reeve here."
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No.
Rufus ShinRa is not the only man on Gaia with Reeve Tuesti's personal cell phone number. Why, it could be one of his AVALANCHE cronies. Or the Director of the Hugs and Cuddles for Bears Association.
For a moment all she could do was stand perfectly still and hold her breath.
Because I'm no where near that fucking lucky.
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Huh. Nothing good can come of this...
With no dial tone ringing in his ear, so at least it was not some pathetic attempt at petty harassment from the blonde, the Commissioner waited patiently... and somewhat apprehensively for a response.
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"Good," he replied on his first impulse, "You're not Scarlet." Not Tseng, either. Not necessarily who he wanted to be talking to, either, but if he had someone in mind, he wouldn't have been picking numbers at random, would he? He was silent for a moment, seeming to ponder something.
"But you don't get any whiskey, either."
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