plate_builder | [Open Post]

Tseng was, like Reeve, quite dedicated to his job, whether it was a simple one like taking care of a sick comrade, or taking out a target, which made him perfect for dealing with stubborn men - Reeve and Rufus alike. And also why Rufus had asked Tseng to do the duties, knowing as he did that Elena would probably fall for "five more minutes" for more than an hour before finally getting fed up and throwing a tantrum about not being listened to; something which would easily have awakened him most times.

Of course, 'most times' was really a time before the ShinRa building had collapsed more or less on top of him, as that had been when he had started to change in some small way. Maybe not right after, as he'd escaped just fine if one ignored the damage to his body and the Turks had been right there to find him and spirit him away somewhere safe. After that, though... Well, he had made a pretty bad miscalculation, as had the Turks, and Rufus had ended up with more time to think about things than he would have preferred.

So, sometimes, he didn't seem to wake as he had before to the smallest thing. Perhaps it was just because there was always someone there, keeping an eye on him, and so he could be allowed to rest without fear, or perhaps it was something else - once again he could blame the stigma - but it was whatever it was.

Which means that sometimes, even when he was awake, he felt too tired to do much, and it spares Reeve a snide remark about forgetting where he is, or even some remark about being at 'Prince Charming's House,' and instead just gets a straight answer. "It's Rufus. Go back to sleep. I'm just getting some water."

"Drew a costume for you," Reeve answered, his voice a low and sleepy rumble. It was both fitting and amusing to him. Of course it involved setting up Rufus's wheelchair as a cardboard example of a Shinra Motors car.

He doesn't go back to sleep, but watched Rufus carefully. Sleepy Reeve was a bit like a cat. Sleeps anywhere warm, sprawls out, and watched anything that moves nearby, just in case it might become interesting.

"Should I be concerned?" He ducks into the kitchen area before Reeve can answer, coming back out after a few minutes to bring a cold bottle of water to the man, one for himself in hand, letting Reeve decide if he should answer the earlier question or not.

The smile Reeve gives is the dopey grin of a sleepy man. "You would be a car. Don't let Reno be your motor. He might accidentally drive you into something."

Rufus's hobby must be hydrating people, because he had given Reeve so many waters. Still, he was pleased and he downed a good bit of his water. So good. Better than coffee, but let no one know he was stepping out on coffee.

If Reeve knew the real reason the ex-President of ShinRa was drinking so much water, he probably would not have been amused at it, even in his sleepy state, since the truth was that the man often broke out in sweats whenever the stigma flared up, making hydration extremely important. And also rather ironic, since he seemed always to be cold, as well, if his sense of dress gave any hint; no one who wasn't freezing at all times would choose to wear so many layers as Rufus Shinra.

Either way, Rufus smirks a little at the remark about Reno, opening his bottle and downing a good amount himself, before taking a seat at the chair which had never been moved from nearby the couch. "He's a lot better driver than he seems. Sometimes.

"But I don't think I'm ready to reveal I'm alive just yet, so you may have to find someone else to play your little car."

No costume even in his own home? Works for him. But it was amusing. Rufus would be funny as a car.

"Might make my own costume. But I don't have any ideas."

So he had drawn one for Rufus instead.

What would be funny in being a car would have gone well over Rufus' head, unless it happened to be something less like a car and more like a wrecking ball; at least that would suit his current reputation, and honestly might have even amused him in a dark, self deprecating way.

However, this likely would not have been suggested, even if Reeve had communicated his amusement, as it would have been entirely too easy, and far be it from Shinra to be easy. Which explains his next remark.

"How about either the ring master of a circus, or a scarecrow? Both would be fitting, for different reasons."

Ring master, yep, Reeve could understand that. Give Cait Sith a mane to be a lion. But the other one? Reeve frowned and tilted his head. What was that supposed to mean.

"I read the Wizard of Oz too. I get the joke, not in Kalm anymore and whatever. But are you saying I'm brainless?"

Rufus would do those sort of vague insults.

He wasn't actually thinking of The Wizard of Oz, or that Reeve was brainless, but the suggestion causes a smirk, before he shakes his head. "No... Actually, I was thinking you're tall enough, and that you aren't scary, so why not try to be?"

Was that enough of a vague insult?

Scarecrows aren't scary and Reeve isn't laughing. It is interesting but he doesn't want to figure out just how he is being insulted so he doesn't respond. Just watches Rufus quietly.

"Do you ever consider genuine, harmless humor?"

"Not really." It's such a simple answer, and yet there's such a hint of amusement, he may be lying about that. But good luck figuring out if he is. "Besides, your humor seems pretty dark too, with exception of the car costume. Or, is it just dark towards me?"

"My humor is hardly dark. Have you met Cait?" Reeve considers Rufus briefly before settling back down to stretch out. "As for you I would prefer to put you in something else as a costume but the Stigma would make you self conscious so I went for covering."

"What would you be trying to dress me as that the stigma would be an issue?" He watches Reeve stretch out for a moment. "It looks like so long as you stay laid down you don't hurt too much. That's good."

Nope, Reeve was not going to discuss it. But he would rather focus on the pain. Or how it was less here.

"Yeah, you are right. Don't want to admit it, but the worst part is the leg and I suppose immobile is useful and important."

But what can you do? He sighs and reaches to lift his pad. He had drawn a healthy Rufus in vampire paraphernalia. And he looked good in Reeve's rough sketch.

"Then I'll see if we can get you some crutches or something to walk around until the leg heals. Since I doubt you really want to stay down all the time."

All this is said before Reeve holds up the image, and when he does, Rufus can't help but raise a brow. Even if Reeve doesn't have a dark sense of humor, it can be as biting as Rufus', unless a vampire was a fluke of a choice. And why did he actually look good in the sketch, rather than having just been more or less a body like the fashion magazines? It actually seems a bit curious for Reeve's profession, and that curiousness comes through in his voice.

"I didn't expect you to draw humans with a great amount of detail. Are there things you don't draw?"

"Pastorals. Still life. Comics," Reeve shrugged as he put the pad down. Of course Rufus would judge even this. "I wanted to be an artist for a while. Worked at it. But art doesn't put food on the table. Civil engineering and architectural design do."

His mother had always said she'd be proud no matter what. But pride? That was putting a roof over your mother's head. That was helping people. A pretty picture didn't help anyone. So Reeve barely bothered to draw anymore, except for himself if he was stressed

It wasn't so much judgment as curiosity, though with his personality, expecting the former was definitely more of the norm. Yet there isn't any of the normal amusement or harassment in his voice when he speaks next. "So, you took what you enjoyed and morphed it into something you could survive on. Good enough. I suppose it explains where Cait Sith came from too."

"Cait was a story my mother told me as a child. And a project to keep me sane with how powerless I was in my life. Something I could make and only ever be proud of."

And even that was appropriated by the company.

"A story?" Rufus sounds even more curious, what with his father's stories consisting of what a good son and heir should do, as well as instruction on people and how to manipulate them. A simple story, meant to entertain, was not in his power. "What sort of story features a Moogle-cat? Or even a cat with a crown?"

The question makes Reeve smile, and he pushes up to sit and look at Rufus. Clearly the man never got the story when he was growing up. Which meant JT was story time.

"Cait Sith is dervived from a story about a spirit, a fey called Cath Sidhe, the fairy of cats. The story is from around here, a tale of the Kalm highlands. He was a black wildcat, with a white spot on his chest. Cath Sidhe is a very clever spirit, so smart that he walks on his hind legs like a man. Cath is the king of all cats and his power is vast. They say that he comes to carry to souls of the dead away, making him stronger, so that one day he might walk the promised land and be king of men as well. Never light a fire near those who have passed, they say, so that it will not call Cath Sidhe. And if a man is lost, Cath will arrive to guide them if their soul is worthy."

He listens quietly, considering for a moment how he might have thought of such a story as a kid. Would it have amazed, or frightened, him if he wasn't raised by his father, but someone entirely different? And why is it, even now, he just wants to make a remark about it and Meteor, even though he knows full-well it's inappropriate?

Yet he does key in on something, and can't seem to help a chuckle. "Would that explain Tseng at the Temple of Ancients? The way everything sounded, he was basically considered dead, and only Cait was there after Cloud and his group left, right?"

Tseng. Reeve sighs and shakes his head. "He's stubborn. But... yeah, probably some spirit there, watching out for him."

Truth told, Reeve was damn good at what he did. And Cait Sith channeling magic had been one of the things he did well. It had been fueled by a complex system in the mog, based on some of Scarlet and Heidegger's tech. And Reeve had delayed the second Cait getting where it was needed because he had to see Tseng healed. But everyone benefitted from the idea that Tseng was just hard to kill.

"Certainly stubborn." Rufus doesn't even hesitate to speak this, knowing the Turk very well, and what sort of man he really was. So cold seeming, and yet, he had a deep passing that fueled him when it came to those he cared for.

As to spirits watching over him? Rufus knows such things exist, but he looks at Reeve with a smile. "Excepting Aeris, would there be a spirit called Reeve involved? You may have an antipathy towards most of ShinRa, but I've never seen you as having a dislike for the Turks altogether."

"I may not have liked the company, but the people weren't always bad. And Tseng..."

Well that was something else entirely. While on a lot of metrics Tseng was a terrible person, Reeve had been fond of him. Tseng has never been cruel to him. Had even saved Reeve from a dose of Scarlet at a few parties. And there were other debts. He may have owed the man his life.

They were even now.

"The log and short of it is that Cait Sith comes from a fairy tale. Not from any drawing I've done. Black cat, white spots, crown, even the accent."

"Tseng has a certain draw, doesn't he?" Rufus knows this may not have been what Reeve was implying, or going to say, but he also knows it's the truth. When the Turks were more or less disbanded many years ago, Reno and Rude had stayed on along with Tseng.

Sure, Reno always said it was because he had no where else to go, and Rude said very little in general about his reasons, but there was no way either would have stayed on without a great deal of respect and admiration for the dark-haired man. Even though they greatly seemed to enjoy the liberties being Turks gave them, both had strong feelings about who they would or wouldn't follow, and to what extent. Tseng, apparently, was easily to follow.

Which left Rufus wondering how they could follow him? He was in no way easy to deal with, frequently even a complete brat who wouldn't explain what he was thinking and treating the three men and one woman as only employees, and yet...

For a moment he closes his eyes, apparently not having expected his mind to take him down that road, and he's grateful Reeve goes on speaking, hoping he doesn't catch that moment of doubt. He even seems to remain genuinely curious as he speaks his next question.

"And the Moogle? Is he also from a fairy tale?"

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Sorry, life got away from me.

Here too

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