plate_builder | [Open Post]

"It's no trouble." He assures, and moves off to the kitchen for a time, letting Reeve dig through the documents, which have been organized carefully for easier understanding and reference.

The names of various members of high society top the list, as well as what they could provide and how hard it would be to convince them to; easiest to hardest. Included are details on what they desire, what sort of people they are, and any other details Reeve might find useful; some of the names have even been placed in red, an indication they should be watched or left alone entirely.

After those names Reeve will find Rufus has focused on community leaders, obviously calling in some of his Turks skill at gathering intel, and those who seem to donate much of their time and resources to the cities.

The rest of the document goes into detail about how to retain some measure of power in a situation, how to negotiate, and words and phrases that tend to illicit good or bad reactions. Special thought has also been given to show Rufus understands Reeve's idea of power is quite different from his own, and an explanation of why any of it may need to be used is included.

Whether he gets far or not, Rufus will come back out of the kitchen after a time, laying a cup down in front of Reeve, who should recognize the smell quite well, even half asleep; the same sort of coffee the man drinks at home.

"Here. This should wake you up a little."

Indeed, it is his brand. Reeve, who has barely made it through the second page, smiles as he looks up at Rufus, and happily takes a sip. Not only the same sort, but seasoned how he likes it with only one sugar.

"Thank you," he says. "The town elders in Kalm barely gave me time to myself. I managed a gloriously decadent two hours of sleep last night."

None of that meeting had been easy, though Kalm was perhaps one of the easiest places to pitch to because he'd already done so much work with them.

"I get a few days of recovery and then I'm off to Fort Condor. Hopefully by the end of the month I'll be able to pick out who in the organization is skilled at organizational things. Get myself an assistant there. Apply better leadership roles, though at this point a lot is in flux."

Rufus has little to do here, and he's always been a watcher. In the past, knowing Reeve and his habits would have been a bad thing for the young president to have, but now, he seems at least to be giving some thought to how to use the information he gets for something positive rather than negative.

He sits beside Reeve as the man speaks, though, and chuckles softly. "I understand they like to speak. The Turks, Elena especially, can often get some good information from the elders in Kalm when it's needed.

"And don't expect things to calm down. Even when you have people assisting, with such a large organization, something will always be in flux. I should know."

For a moment Reeve is surprised to have Rufus sit so close to him, and then he's too distracted by coffee and papers to care. But Rufus is speaking so he best pay attention.

"They do speak. On end. The problem is that they come and go from meetings, as if they're bored. So between their tag-teaming I am about ready to pass out."

If this is how it's going to be, how is he ever going to find time to sleep? Time to himself? At least he won't have time to feel alone.

"How long until I can get away with claiming I have a business trip before spending a few days at the Gold Saucer?"

The last remark makes Rufus grin, while also shrugging his shoulders. "A long, long time I'm afraid.

"I wasn't around for my father's building ShinRa up at the beginning, but I got many stories about it. He rarely took a break for the first three or so years, and the ones he did, well... Let's just say I probably have siblings I am unaware of."

He knows Reeve will understand this, as no matter how much he was warned, his fool of an old man had a weakness for women. Rufus himself was still convinced Scarlett was only promoted as high as she was because she put out, and it didn't help that theory when she'd tried more than once to get into his good graces that way.

Reeve is not his father, however, so Rufus continues. "I imagine you can always say you have an important meeting with your benefactor and come hide out here if needed. It's not as fun as the Gold Saucer, but it's fairly quiet."

"Didn't think I'd be able to get away with the Saucer anyway. Dio would tell someone. Of course, they have beds."

He can apparently set himself up well. Meanwhile he takes another sip of coffee and flips the paper over. "This one here. The man Argus. Says he was with SOLDIER. Is there any way to confirm that? I know Junon's records are more complete than what little could be pulled from Midgar's systems, but... well, I suppose I'm a bit more leery knowing a 'former-SOLDIER' myself."

It would be easy to say something, but Rufus doesn't, instead looking at the page Reeve is on and scanning the synopsis of the man to refresh his memory. He isn't marked in red, but he's certainly not someone easy to convince and there is a warning that he's not good for any position too high in power.

"Tseng actually recalls him being SOLDIER." Rufus assures, knowing Reeve will trust the dark-haired Turk's memory. "From what he told me, Argus is the sort of SOLDIER who was in the business to make things better, but he has a short temper at times. If installed in a position of power, he would be miserable company, but if you are looking for someone to assist in rebuilding and protection of the city, he's very capable."

"That's always useful," Reeve admits. Not that Junon needs nearly as much work as Edge does. Still, plenty of places were damaged by the intensity of the Lifestream's defense. He hums in acknowledgement at the information and flips a page, but really, he doesn't focus on it too much.

"Three years?" he asks, looking at Rufus again. "That's a long time. Of course I imagine he chose to take time for himself now and then. I can barely get a weekend."

The world doesn't stop just because it's a Saturday. In a way, he's almost grateful for this meeting. Only one self-important person to please, and that's Rufus. That one he thinks he's gotten good at.

"From what he told me." Rufus isn't sure he feels all that important sometimes, but he knows that he is. At least, right now he is, to a lot of people who don't know he's even still alive. "According to my father, it was hard to get many of the resources he wanted or needed since he didn't have a name at that time. So he was dauntless in finding help, selling what information he could get and didn't need, and, according to him, practically laying each brick of what would become the ShinRa conglomerate.

"What others say is a little different, of course. Now, here," Rufus stops to indicate a name. "This woman, Alara, you'll want to make sure to get together with her. She's not a powerful woman, but she's capable, compassionate and very well liked. It seems when the Stigma first started to spread, she kept many of those infected despite the fear it was contagious. Still does, I hear. It endeared her to those whose families were stricken with the disease."

"A very good thing to note. Have something to write with?" Reeve asks, because frankly, he's forgotten there is a pen sticking out of the breast pocket of his blazer. He had found Kalm more receptive to a traditional suit than his preferred coat. "Your father also talked a big game."

What he really was responsible for was a bit of a question. Reeve knew personally that a decent number of the Mako Reactor improvements the elder Shinra had claimed to create were actually his own work, something he wouldn't publicize now.

Everything depended on who you asked. Rufus did not doubt his father had some skill in handling a business, he would not have been able to start ShinRa without it, but he also knew the man was an arrogant, egotistical and self-serving bastard. Once had had what he wanted, the little details were left to the peons.

And those who knew him? They would often tell Rufus things behind closed doors, sure the boy wouldn't return to his father with stories of the wrongs the man had done. And he hadn't. Merely filed each and every story away for later use. Things Reeve would have to ask to know.

"I don't, but," Rufus reaches over in response to the question, dragging the pen out from the blazer and waving it in front of Reeve a little. "It seems you forgot you had one."

Oh. Well. Reeve smiles to himself at that. Who would have thought it. He collects the pen and jots down the note.

"I'm sorry," Reeve sighs, shaking his head after he's done so. "I find myself a bit overworked, by my own action of course. Sort of. What I need more than anything is a chance to just once sleep in and know things aren't going to be problems without me there. Maybe get a nice meal, close my day with a nice bourbon, and let someone else take care of things for just a few hours."

Rufus chuckles softly at that, supposing he can understand the sentiment to some extent. He's had his own nights that the Turks have had to tell him to stop and sleep, even while he worries that if he does, the world will collapse around him.

Lately, it isn't so bad of course, since he's stuck in one place and has little to do. And since sometimes the Stigma causes him to pass out, but for Reeve, he can imagine at least.

"Perhaps you would like to stay here the evening. I could go crash in one of the Turks beds below, let you have mine. At the least, you wouldn't have to make the trip home and could get a little extra rest."

"An excuse to get into Tseng's bed one way or another?" Reeve asks, amusement in his tone. Then he shakes his head. "That is kind of you, but I won't put you out of your own space, Rufus. Now, if you want to offer me Reno's bed and tell him to take the couch..."

This time, that is an offer he could accept. Immediately even. Give himself another few hours to freshen himself up before he faces all of this paperwork. Doesn't help the text on the page is a bit blurry.

"Do I need glasses or am I just tired?" Reeve mumbles to himself. He fears the former as well as the latter.

He chuckles gently at the remark about Tseng, before shaking his head a little. "I somehow doubt you want to be in Reno's bed. He'd find some excuse to come back and bother you. Besides, it's early yet, so I could always loan you mine until it's time to sleep and have the Turks move a mattress up for later in the evening? Since you seem unable to fully concentrate."

“Thank you,” Reeve smiles because he hadn’t thought of that. “I only need another hour. Three hours and two cups of coffee usually suffices.”

Rufus would absolutely know by now just how poorly the man treats his body with the demands he places on it.

"Take a few hours." He remarks as he stands, indicating Reeve to go ahead and follow him. "Let me grab a few things from the room, and then the bed is all yours."

“I don’t wish to bank too much on an excessive welcome,” Reeve counters, but he does put the papers down. Here he can rest, still be safe, and still claim it as work. Justify it to himself. Which matters a lot to him.

“Thank you, Rufus.”

"Reeve, you know you need the rest, so take it." His tone is a little firm, a hint of a warning that the man needs to attend his health, even as Rufus is picking up a book he seems to be in the process of reading. "As I said, it isn't like I need the bed for several hours. So there's no inconvenience in it."

The look Reeve gives him is one of relief. He does know where the bed is so he rises and moves to that room. Granted he isn’t certain he trusts Rufus to obey, which means once r is in there he sets himself an alarm on his phone. To be safe. Two hours, so he can steal an extra one if Rufus does not respect his wishes. Which, of course, means he wakes to that alarm two hours later.

Yes, that is considerate, but really?

Still he feels a bit refreshed, and he reenters Rufus’s presence once more, seeming ready to work. He doesn’t even need to metaphorically roll up his sleeves, he has them actually rolled up, his coat still tossed over a chair in Rufus’s room. Even the tie has been ditched and his collar loosened. A far more casual Reeve than had ever intentionally shown the other man.

“You didn’t wake me,” he accuses.

Rufus has taken those few hours to make himself comfortable, settled on the couch under a small throw blanket that is so colorful and full of flowers that Elena probably bought it. Beside him, he has his usual bottle of water, and in his hand is the book he snagged from the room earlier, quite a bit more read than before.

Which would make one think he might be surprised by Reeve coming out, fully enthralled in his book, but the small chuckle shows different. "You knew I wouldn't."

“I am beginning to realize one thing about you, Rufus,” Reeve says as he takes in the look of Rufus with the blanket. Is that perhaps a touch of something along the lines of fondness in his eyes? Perhaps. “And that is that I can trust you tomake sure I take care of myself. Perhaps you’re more wifely than you give yourself credit for.”

Give him a moment to appreciate this sight before he moves to join Rufus. There is so much to do. So much to learn from the man. Not just today. So much to learn before there is no chance. You can never be sure when the Stigma will take someone.

The darkness of that thought catches Reeve off guard. Along with the fact that he realizes now that he would miss the man.

"I'm not wearing a dress." The comment is laid back. almost joking in its tone as it brings back their last meeting, even as he finds his bookmark. "And if there's one thing I've learned the hard way from the Turks, no one takes care of themselves sometimes and others have to take over."

He moves the bottle as he sets the book onto the table, making sure that it doesn't tip as Reeve sits, before catching something; perhaps a flash in Reeve's eyes. "Is something the matter?"

Reeve doesn’t even crack a smile at the dress comment. His mind is on something else.

“You’re dying,” Reeve observes, his voice soft. “You could die during this meeting. Or tomorrow. Or next week.”

And he doesn’t know at this point how he would go on without Rufus’s support. Like it or not he really has come to rely on ge money. No, more than that. The... companionship?

Perhaps that is more accurate.

Any trace of smile he had fades away, replaced with an almost startled look. Half his mind is saying 'you just noticed?', while the other half wonders why it matters enough suddenly for that strange drop in tone.

"I am." Rufus speaks slowly, leaning back into the couch. "We all are, of course, but the Stigma increases the likelihood it will be early. Still, I was told by someone that the more darkness you allow in, the more thoughts that there's nothing ahead for you, the faster the disease will take you."

He lifts his Stigma-stained hand, giving Reeve a small smirk, a self-deprecating one, but also knows what he says is the truth. "I'm not dying anytime soon, though, Reeve. I have very much left to do, and this won't kill me.:

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Bets on if Rufus wakes him or just sleeps on his own couch? XD

A Turk would wake Reeve because Boss Rrally?

After they took pictures of their sleeping boss? lol

Reno and Elena would. Rude and ardent wouldn’t.

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I'm breaking some Otwts canon, since the timeline doesn't add up, so yeah