Perhaps not so good an evening, for some

[mydarknation]

Who: Rufus, Tseng
When: Day 64, evening
Location: Gongaga, garden near HQ.
Rating: PG13?
Summary: Rufus runs into Tseng, whose insecurities have flared up in response to Veld's arrival.

Comments

[winchester300]

The glass bottle was cool against the burn in the palm that held it, and cool when Tseng pressed it to his cheek. Fever and fervour - a pathetic though potent cocktail on their own without needing to bring this - whatever was in this bottle; he wasn't an expert on the details, only what would do the trick - into the mix.

What would Veld's comment be, on such a behaviour?

Veld. Tseng brought the lip of the bottle to his own, motion agitated with poor coordination. This wasn't working so well-.

And, nearly choked on the liquid passing into his throat as his name was spoken.

No. No. A dulling of the senses should not have allowed him, of all people, to approach and discover this scene. But-

"Sir." As abrupt an answer as possible, because Tseng knew his words would slur should he say more. The bottle in his hand would have betrayed him already, however, if not the waft of alcohol on his breath.

[mydarknation]

The simple presence of the bottle wasn't particularly of note; it was far from the first time Rufus had found one of the Turks with something alcoholic. Tseng was among the less frequent, but it still didn't surprise him. What did surprise him was the apparent shock (and possibly guilt?) at Rufus' appearance and a 'sir' that came out sounding just slightly off. How much of that bottle had Tseng already consumed, he wondered.

He sighed softly and reminded himself for all that the initial sight hadn't struck him as surprising, the occasions of Tseng actually being drunk were very few and far between. Either he was misreading the situation, or something was strange tonight.

"Relax, I'm not here to give you a lecture," he assured, regarding the other man with the vaguest of frowns.

Upon further inspection, he noted with very mild interest that the bottle was one he happened to be in possession of himself... which meant either that Tseng was a thief or that he had good taste. Rufus was inclined to believe the latter.

Forgive our drunken ramblings and our inability to tag on time~ <3

[winchester300]

Tseng almost laughed; indeed opened his mouth and allowed a few soundless chuckles to escape before checking himself again, breathing deeply and willing the fog of intoxication to clear. But this was such typical Rufus Shinra - the man who used weakness as currency, always straight to the point whether it was his intention or not. The almost empty bottle was a limp weight at Tseng's side, foolishness in form; if this was anyone but Rufus Shinra-

"Mr. President," the Turk sighed, and lowered his head. "I apologise."

What are you fighting for?, Veld had asked, and a hazy array of red and black blotches on pale skin momentarily darkened Tseng's vision. The closest to fear he had ever felt was while surrounded by the rubble and unidentified corpses of Shinra Building, and again, in a silent bedroom as still as death, unwinding fresh bandages with languid hands. Tseng was a Turk of Shinra, and would serve Shinra until he died - he told Veld as much, but it apparently wasn't enough. Not that it mattered, of course; Tseng was long past the

<3 Rufus wants a new bottle of wine ASAP

[mydarknation]

"Hn." The noise was almost a chuckle. So much for thinking the Turk merely had good taste. Anyone else, and he would likely respond more harshly, but he didn't at all doubt the offer to replace the bottle, and thus kept any admonition to a simple, "I expect you will." He looked from the bottle back to the man holding it

You can dock the money from my paycheck. :/

[winchester300]

Was something bothering him? A wave of nausea threatened to consume the Turk as he shook his head, slowly, a grimace in place and the incriminating bottle still dangling precariously by its neck from his hand. How to answer that question? How to respond in a way that won't jeopardise his professionalism any more than this pitiful display of drunkenness already has? Something was bothering him, oh yes- The humanity Tseng had cut into bloody pieces over the years, discarded, buried, fed to the dogs, had morphed together again in the shape of an old mentor determined not to let the young one forget. Sephiroth was alive. Aerith was alive. All these weaknesses were alive, rampant, famished for his attention.

And what was everything for? Money and livelihood were only trivial matters. No. Since their alliance had been forged, Tseng did everything for him - this prince of a ruined empire, because this prince was the only one left with ambitions and dreams grand enough to fill Tseng's own need to believe.

Aerith had wanted...to save the

You bet I will

[mydarknation]

For a moment, Rufus simply looked at him, one eyebrow raised, debating whether or not to honor that request to leave him alone. It was quite obvious that he was, in fact, not fine, but that had been his suspicion in the first place, or he wouldn't have asked. As for leaving him alone, that was another question. Even if Tseng was in pretty bad shape at the moment, Rufus didn't doubt that the Turk could take care of himself and that he would be fine eventually. That much wasn't a lie.

And yet, this kind of behavior seemed particularly unusual coming from Tseng. Curiosity, if not outright worry, drove him to try to understand what had forced its way under Tseng's skin.

"Alcohol makes you a far less convincing liar, you realize." He regarded Tseng with a mild frown, and didn't move from where he'd been standing. Part of his thoughts went back to a night not long ago when a few too many things had been weighing on his mind and he'd chosen a similar way to deal with it. He hadn't wanted to talk to Tseng that night, either, not at all,

I hope this wasn't overpriced wine, though knowing you, I hope in vain.

[winchester300]

"I'm not lying." A soft murmur as Tseng dipped his head, eyes still closed, before a string of quiet, strangled laughter issued from his lips. "Ha...no, you're right, sir. Alcohol does have that effect. Of making people more transparent."

He swallowed. Drew a long, shuddering breath, and let it out again as slowly as he could. Pulse still abnormally strong against his temples, but now slow enough for coherent thought to reform, Tseng allowed his gaze to meet the steady blue of Rufus's.

"I'm tired, that's all," he admitted finally, combing back the bangs that had fallen loose around his face and resting fingers briefly against his forehead. It felt like admitting defeat, because it was. "Recent events...taking me by surprise. Thought I'd- Take a leaf out of Reno's book, but, being blissfully wasted is harder than it looks

That depends on your definition of "overpriced"

[mydarknation]

Tired. Rufus peered at the other man, and found no fault with that assessment. It was at least partially the effect of the alcohol, but Tseng looked like he very well might just fall over. Even so, the hand that suddenly landed on Rufus' shoulder took him by surprise. His eyes widened a bit, even as the words that accompanied the action brought a dry smile to his lips.

You say that as if you're the only person to mistakenly decide that alcohol might help something. Had Tseng not been around for the aftermath of that same mistake made by Rufus not too long ago? And if Rufus' guess at what might be bothering Tseng was correct, then the things that had been plaguing him then and those plaguing Tseng now were, while not the same, not entirely dissimilar. Ghosts of the past were powerful things