Healin Lodge, Wednesday Evening
Rufus Shinra was many things. Intelligent. Prudent. Ruthless. Alive. Guilty. And always looking for a means to improve that which affected him the most.
Currently, that which affected him the most was the world entire. With Midgar laying in pieces and geostigma sweeping across the survivors who were rebuilding their lives on the edges of the ruins, there was a great deal that he had to be concerned about. He had an added stake in his newfound pledge to rebuild the damage that his company had done to the planet, a throbbing green mark spreading over his body that marked him as a carrier of the disease that had infected countless people when Meteor had been stopped. So much to do, so little time.
Which was why, when there were only straws to be grasped at, he was going to grab them as firmly as possible while he still could.
"Tseng," he said, nodding at the leader of his few remaining employees as the dark-haired man stepped into the room. "I have an assignment for one of your Turks."
Tseng nodded curtly and placed his hands behind his back. "Of course, sir."
They were only nominally the Turks, as Midgar was in ruins and ShinRa was no more. But it had been such a part of their identity for so long that Tseng would have been surprised if any of them had walked away.
Even now, when their assignment was, largely, watching over the sick president and searching for clues that didn't seem to be there.
Rufus inclined his head ever so slightly and lifted his hand, clutching within it a sheet of paper, folded, with print on it.
"What do you see, here?"
Tseng took the pamphlet carefully, allowing himself a few moments to flip it open and skim the contents. A few jarring phrases leaped out at him; those parts he read over again more carefully. When he was finished, he looked up.
"Multidimensional?" he asked, raising one eyebrow. "Intriguing, if true."
"Indeed." Were he not bound to a wheelchair, Rufus would be pacing thoughtfully, a move more reminiscent of his father than he would ever care to admit. "So many possibilities, if that pamphlet speaks the truth, wouldn't you agree?"
Tseng returned the paper and placed his hands behind his back once more. "Very much so," he agreed with a curt nod. "Not just separate worlds, but dimensions. There would be limitless opportunities for business, research, even basic information-sharing. Who knows what technologies exist that we've never thought to create."
Rufus simply nodded. There had been a time when the Turks were a liability, a stepping stone that stood in the way of his personal drive for power. Now he found himself even slightly thankful that they had remained loyal to him in the face of the collapse of ShinRa. They were, at present, the most reliable tool he had at his disposal.
"Which is why I need one of your Turks to investigate this 'Fandom Island,' to see what potential it offers." He allowed a moment's pause before continuing. "Needless to say, such a venture would have to be long-term in order to properly gain an understanding of what this 'multidimensional' nexus can provide."
"You wish to send one of the Turks away?" As a rule, Tseng never openly questioned his superiors - on the rare occasion that he went against orders, he did so in a much more flagrant manner - but his demeanor suggested that he wasn't entirely in agreement.
"I don't imagine you have a suggestion that might serve us better?" The eyebrow that Rufus raised as he spoke wasn't visible under the folds of cloth that were obscuring his face, but his voice was stern. He didn't have a wealth of options. At one point, he might have opted to send a military grunt to do the job, rather than wasting the talent of well-trained underlings on something so trivial as... well, as high school. "It's either one of your Turks, or this opportunity slips through our fingers."
Unfortunately, Tseng didn't. Their resources were limited, and time was quickly becoming a factor. There was no cure for geostigma, not even an accepted treatment. Tseng nodded curtly. "Very well. Which? When? And for how long?"
"New students are able to arrive on the island as early as Friday, and I'll expect whoever goes to remain there as long as it takes to uncover pertinent information." Rufus pursed his lips for a moment, thinking. "As for who is sent, I'll leave the decision up to you. I trust you'll decide on someone reliable, Tseng."
There was a pause as he carefully covered the basics in his head. Finally, satisfied that all that needed to be said had, indeed, been said, he gave a curt nod of his head. "Dismissed."
Tseng bowed his head and left.
Send one of his Turks away. Of course, since he had such a great number to spare. There were only four, now, and that included himself. Unfortunately, orders were orders.
As for which Turk, he removed himself from consideration almost immediately. His place was here, not a dimensional rift away from both boss and subordinates.
Elena was young, fresh-faced, and could play the role of a student easily. Tseng lingered over her file, weighing his options, but ultimately deemed it too risky. Elena was too young, too new to be sure of herself. If the assignment became complicated, she would need to phone in for instructions; she hadn't yet gained the instincts of a Turk.
Rude was steady, reliable, intelligent ... and might as well have "covert agent" tattooed on his forehead, just above those foreboding black sunglasses.
Reno? ... now there was a thought.
His cocky, abrasive manner would pass for typical teenage rebellion. They'd worked together long enough that it was still somewhat surprising for Tseng to remember that Reno was, in fact, still a teenager. He could blend seamlessly with the population of this island - and, unconventional though he might be, Tseng had to admit that Reno was his most trusted Turk. He'd never wear a suit properly, but he didn't accept failure from anyone, least of all himself.
It was settled, then. Tseng called Reno to request that he report in immediately.
Shortly after he hung up, it struck him. He was sending Reno to high school.
Somehow, he managed to stop laughing by the time Reno knocked on his door.
[[NFB, NFI, preplayed with the awesomesauce-on-toast the_merriest, who is absolutely the best Tseng ever and ever-a-lifesaver. Establishy liek whoa - especially given that Reno isn't even in this post. OOC comments, however, will be sprinkled with sugar and consumed with great joy.]]
Currently, that which affected him the most was the world entire. With Midgar laying in pieces and geostigma sweeping across the survivors who were rebuilding their lives on the edges of the ruins, there was a great deal that he had to be concerned about. He had an added stake in his newfound pledge to rebuild the damage that his company had done to the planet, a throbbing green mark spreading over his body that marked him as a carrier of the disease that had infected countless people when Meteor had been stopped. So much to do, so little time.
Which was why, when there were only straws to be grasped at, he was going to grab them as firmly as possible while he still could.
"Tseng," he said, nodding at the leader of his few remaining employees as the dark-haired man stepped into the room. "I have an assignment for one of your Turks."
Tseng nodded curtly and placed his hands behind his back. "Of course, sir."
They were only nominally the Turks, as Midgar was in ruins and ShinRa was no more. But it had been such a part of their identity for so long that Tseng would have been surprised if any of them had walked away.
Even now, when their assignment was, largely, watching over the sick president and searching for clues that didn't seem to be there.
Rufus inclined his head ever so slightly and lifted his hand, clutching within it a sheet of paper, folded, with print on it.
"What do you see, here?"
Tseng took the pamphlet carefully, allowing himself a few moments to flip it open and skim the contents. A few jarring phrases leaped out at him; those parts he read over again more carefully. When he was finished, he looked up.
"Multidimensional?" he asked, raising one eyebrow. "Intriguing, if true."
"Indeed." Were he not bound to a wheelchair, Rufus would be pacing thoughtfully, a move more reminiscent of his father than he would ever care to admit. "So many possibilities, if that pamphlet speaks the truth, wouldn't you agree?"
Tseng returned the paper and placed his hands behind his back once more. "Very much so," he agreed with a curt nod. "Not just separate worlds, but dimensions. There would be limitless opportunities for business, research, even basic information-sharing. Who knows what technologies exist that we've never thought to create."
Rufus simply nodded. There had been a time when the Turks were a liability, a stepping stone that stood in the way of his personal drive for power. Now he found himself even slightly thankful that they had remained loyal to him in the face of the collapse of ShinRa. They were, at present, the most reliable tool he had at his disposal.
"Which is why I need one of your Turks to investigate this 'Fandom Island,' to see what potential it offers." He allowed a moment's pause before continuing. "Needless to say, such a venture would have to be long-term in order to properly gain an understanding of what this 'multidimensional' nexus can provide."
"You wish to send one of the Turks away?" As a rule, Tseng never openly questioned his superiors - on the rare occasion that he went against orders, he did so in a much more flagrant manner - but his demeanor suggested that he wasn't entirely in agreement.
"I don't imagine you have a suggestion that might serve us better?" The eyebrow that Rufus raised as he spoke wasn't visible under the folds of cloth that were obscuring his face, but his voice was stern. He didn't have a wealth of options. At one point, he might have opted to send a military grunt to do the job, rather than wasting the talent of well-trained underlings on something so trivial as... well, as high school. "It's either one of your Turks, or this opportunity slips through our fingers."
Unfortunately, Tseng didn't. Their resources were limited, and time was quickly becoming a factor. There was no cure for geostigma, not even an accepted treatment. Tseng nodded curtly. "Very well. Which? When? And for how long?"
"New students are able to arrive on the island as early as Friday, and I'll expect whoever goes to remain there as long as it takes to uncover pertinent information." Rufus pursed his lips for a moment, thinking. "As for who is sent, I'll leave the decision up to you. I trust you'll decide on someone reliable, Tseng."
There was a pause as he carefully covered the basics in his head. Finally, satisfied that all that needed to be said had, indeed, been said, he gave a curt nod of his head. "Dismissed."
Tseng bowed his head and left.
Send one of his Turks away. Of course, since he had such a great number to spare. There were only four, now, and that included himself. Unfortunately, orders were orders.
As for which Turk, he removed himself from consideration almost immediately. His place was here, not a dimensional rift away from both boss and subordinates.
Elena was young, fresh-faced, and could play the role of a student easily. Tseng lingered over her file, weighing his options, but ultimately deemed it too risky. Elena was too young, too new to be sure of herself. If the assignment became complicated, she would need to phone in for instructions; she hadn't yet gained the instincts of a Turk.
Rude was steady, reliable, intelligent ... and might as well have "covert agent" tattooed on his forehead, just above those foreboding black sunglasses.
Reno? ... now there was a thought.
His cocky, abrasive manner would pass for typical teenage rebellion. They'd worked together long enough that it was still somewhat surprising for Tseng to remember that Reno was, in fact, still a teenager. He could blend seamlessly with the population of this island - and, unconventional though he might be, Tseng had to admit that Reno was his most trusted Turk. He'd never wear a suit properly, but he didn't accept failure from anyone, least of all himself.
It was settled, then. Tseng called Reno to request that he report in immediately.
Shortly after he hung up, it struck him. He was sending Reno to high school.
Somehow, he managed to stop laughing by the time Reno knocked on his door.
[[NFB, NFI, preplayed with the awesomesauce-on-toast the_merriest, who is absolutely the best Tseng ever and ever-a-lifesaver. Establishy liek whoa - especially given that Reno isn't even in this post. OOC comments, however, will be sprinkled with sugar and consumed with great joy.]]