Gun For Hire, Anyone? [OPEN]

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Hollow Bastion, he never set his foot here and it was strange for him as he entering a new world. The man was covered in full combat armor and the helmet completely covered his face, he carried a duffel bag in his left hand while  the other hand carrying his rifle. This kind of appearance led many pedestrians keep themselves away from him but this man had no intention to start chaos right in the middle of the street. He was a former Guardian Corps soldier turned mercenary, under contract of newly founded government known as the Academy in his new homeworld "Pulse" and his assignment was simple; to investigate and study the other new worlds and report back to the Academy once he was finished. Not just a mercenary, this man founded his own mercenary group since after the Academy was founded and they were known as "Wayfaring Wolves". Right now he acted alone, he told his mercenaries to hold their ground in Pulse and after some surveillance, he will call them in. A name tag was visible on his chest and it was written as "Tempest", which was not entirely his name.

Tempest hold his steps and adjusted his duffel bag a little, he slung it behind across his back and hold his rifle with both of his hands. Tempest stood tall right in front of an inn and tilted his head a little, the mercenary rubbed his finger on his helmet. First at foremost, he needed to find a work which was suitable for his career. Either bounty hunting, escorting or clearing some annoying "pests" will do, as long as he earned some money for living. Regardless, it was a long journey and Tempest needed to rest himself. "A fine drink and a warm bed will do the trick." Tempest mumbled to himself as he opening the door and entering the inn. The inn was quiet, no one was around but the innkeeper and Tempest preferred it that way, he hated crowding places. He approached the counter and sat himself on the seat, Tempest lowered down his duffel bag and placed it on the floor. "Best drink you have and a room," Tempest's voice bellowed from his helmet and the innkeeper nodded to him in silence. He handed a key over to the mercenary and huddled to the door behind him. Tempest slung his rifle across his back and that time, the innkeeper came back with a mug of liquor in his hand and he placed right in front of Tempest.

Before he could drink, Tempest checked vest pockets and sling bag for a moment while the innkeeper waiting for him. After found his wallet, Tempest took out few coins and tossed them on the counter while the innkeeper looking on. "Forgive me for asking this mate but, do you require a mercenary's service or do you know anyone who wants to hire a mercenary?" Tempest asked the innkeeper as he placing his elbow on the counter. The innkeeper raised his eyebrows and looked at Tempest directly, he shook his head a little and that led much to the mercenary's disappointment. "Nope, I don't need one and no one needs a mercenary but you can try to find a job within Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee... Perhaps they need someone like you?" the innkeeper said to Tempest after he grabbed the coins from the counter. Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee, a guild or something like that? "My thanks, mate." Tempest nodded and he smiled to the innkeeper, even though he was still wearing the helmet.

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R u f u s S h i n r a

firemasterofcheyenne

The evening had fallen rather quickly. The warm sun vacated the skies and set a comforting darkness that was reminiscent of the Midgardian skies. Crystals seemed to faintly twinkle, fighting against the bright, demanding lights of the strangely advanced castle grounds. Where their buildings were much like the cottages of Kalm or Villas of Costa del Sol, the castle itself was like something out of a fairy tale. It was a romantic sight of power, much comparable to the former Shinra Headquarters that lay amidst the ruins of a poisoned, but healing, land. Hands were nestled deep in his pockets, keeping fingers warm from the chilly night air. The figure stood full of pride and grace: his was held head up and eyes looked forward toward a future that had yet to arrive. This was a man of breeding, the pinnacle of suave and nobility. He carried a presence of power to him, a fearless authority. But there was also a sense of danger that lurked at the edge of his existence. It was like walking around a corner, only to find the devil making a deal with a smiling saint. A crisp, white jacket sat over a white suit, showing off the man's prosperity and his inclination toward manual labor.

Beside the graceful man marched a deadly looking hound. The sleek beast was as black as the midnight skies and with gleaming, golden eyes it was granted a ferocious nature that lay path ignorance of its loyalty to its master. From the shoulder blade of the beast drew a long, hellish tentacle, that lashed as elegantly as a tail, which seemed gone from this beast, likely docked for beautification. The beast was large and stood to just under his owner's hip. Graceful strides followed in pace with the man, head low and constantly scanning for threats. Even when alone this man never was, truly. Ever required: but a phone call was necessary to wipe the pitiful existences from his presence, that or a well placed bullet between the eyes. The man despised doing the dirty work himself. Yes he more relished in the warm, smoky flavor of throwing an enemy to his knees with his words alone. It was almost a fetish. Being able to speak your enemy into submission, without the barbaric contemplations of drawing one's weapon.

Solid, purposeful steps carried him toward the inn. He had only just arrived and had a considerable amount of work to do. First there was his efforts in locating Cloud and his friends. Though they were incorrigible when it came to blindly fighting for things like honor and friendship, it was admirable and gave them a considerable amount of power. Rufus knew well that the human spirit was a difficult opponent to crush. Crushing a human spirit, dare he take hold of such a thought: was impossible. Yes, by learning from the mistakes of the past, one was not doomed to repeat them. This was a new world after all, one in which he could divide and conquer, in time. Looking around, absorbing all he saw, he could easily provide needs and wants for these people, who still seemed to live in a primitive harbor over castles and kings. Little did he hear of Cloud's efforts here, only that he was simply here, and that was enough for the executive to find reason to investigate. That boy had a habit of finding very interesting things. It was not long before the Shinra heir came to the inn's desk. He stood there a moment, at the counter: that dominating countenance was the will of a Shinra. It was the pride and breeding of generations of power and upbringing that brought them into a position to delegate over a world of people. Though many in the world did not yet know, nor stood ready to suffer the idea: one day Shinra would rule Planet, but in doing so he must bring a prosperity that did not send the people into reason to stand against him.

Tact, one must always act with tact and discretion.

There was another man by the counter, one in armor. Though he did not provide much curiosity, the words passed between innkeep and, what he could only assume as a solider (perhaps even of this world), it brought such great intrigue. Fortune smiles upon him already? This is an opportunity not to be forsaken. Rufus adjusted his hands, shifting a bit of gil about. He walked up to the counter and laid on an excessive amount on the desk, looking to this, Tempest fellow, with interest. The action was sly, and seemed wholly unintentional. The large amount of gil placed on the counter was a visual payoff, a taste of what a Shinra hand access to. His eyes were pinched up in a smile. When one pushed up their cheeks and pinched their eyes in such a manner, a smile, even an utterly fake one, would seem sincere. Why even his thin, smooth lips would part to show a bit of his pristine white teeth.

“A mercenary?” Rufus' words drew from his throat like a lion's purr. The sound was intoxicating, a sweet tasting poison meant to lure wolves. It was the grace of a man with a powerful upbringing. A man born to father an empire. “I have not seen one of those in years, I would have thought the amiable air of these days had sent many of them into retirement.” Had Cloud not put down his sword he would have made a sincerely useful ally, but that did not mean he could not be used.

When a man wanted to protect something, they would act. They were driven by a wild, bestial pride that carried from their ancient roots. Even Rufus was driven toward conquest in such a manner. Yes he had to protect his name, his blood and his power. But, one could not rule a world littered in the body of their enemies. They needed allies. His hand came to raise from the coins, face twisting slightly as if in remorse. Dark Nation snaked along his master's side, the hound always searching for a means to make physical contact with his charge. The Tentacle Hound raised his head to the counter's edge, the frightening eyes sending a small shiver through the innkeep's form. A soft woof escaped the hound, drawing Rufus's attention. He blinked passed his blond bangs, the hair drawn uniformly over his left brow to aptly hide the hideous scar that rend his perfect features. A foul reminder of the Planet's malcontent with his dismissive behavior. It was a scar that would keep Planet safe from ever having another one of her own.

“Oh, my apologies.” The male's eloquent voice diluted the hound's fierceness. “I believe the exchange is a bit different here....” He scooped up a handful of the glittering, gil coins and set them back into his pocket, leaving a smaller amount, enough for a simple room.

He was not taken to having such lavish accommodations when traveling, like his father. He was often told the behavior was strange, and during his father's life he was often begged to accept less meager accommodations, but Rufus was smart. Having such hedonistic accommodations when on business distracted. They detracted from the fact that one was vulnerable in a room with wide windows, barely covered by a thin silk curtain. A huge room with no where to duck down or hide behind in the case of danger. No, Rufus thought ahead in everything he did. If a room was too small and cluttered for oneself, what luck would an assassin have in such a situation, especially when one never knew just where to step –

He bowed his head lightly, never drawing his waist down. That was a sign of subservience, not of a man in power. “I applaud you for upholding such an honorable means of work. I knew many mercenaries growing up. They are men with honor.” And men who lavished coin. For the coin paid the them, allowed them to do their job with efficiency and with fewer casualties. To the highest bidder came the spoils of war.... “I do apologize again though, I simply walked in on such a comment. It caught my interest.” As many things did.

What also interested him was the mention of the “Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee”. A group of power in name alone was enough to stir the hearts of a troubled people.

“I am Rufus Shinra.” he offered, a polite and forward introduction. “Please, allow me to show my regard for your duties and as apology for my, listening in, by buying a meal for you.” On the way to the heart of a man, one bypassed the stomach in earnest.

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Suddenly, there was a man approached him and really that sudden appearance almost made Tempest draw out his rifle. The man was curious about the mercenary, stated that he did not seen Tempest's "kind" as most of the mercenaries were already went back for retirement, much to Tempest's amusement. "I'll say, the sods you speaking of either they already reached to their old age or probably not doing well in their jobs." Tempest remarked sarcastically to the man, he was still wearing on his faceplated helmet. Suddenly, there's something appeared underneath the man and it was a hound or sort, the beast almost made the innkeeper ran away from his counter. "By Etro's blood, that is one ugly little bastard." Tempest thought for a moment. He did like dogs but this one was too... feral for his taste. Then the man brandished something right in front of him, a bag of glittering currencies then he apologized to Tempest and he kept it back into his pockets.

"Oh by all means mate, keep it first! Something tells me that you are up to no-good but I'm willing to listen to it." Tempest replied to the man sarcastically again, he liked to deal with new people with his sarcastic remarks. Then, the man recounted that mercenaries he knew were honorable breed and that almost made Tempest burst into laughter. Honorable? Some mercenaries were more like vultures feeding on the carrions during the war. "Not true, some mercenaries are bloodthirsty bastards and they are thirst for war and chaos but trust me mate, I'm not one of them and so do my mercenaries." Tempest reassured the man. No more sarcasms now otherwise Tempest will lose his opportunity of being hired. If he was hired along with his mercenaries, Tempest's Wolves will produce elite results but at first he needed to know what kind of proposal this man offer. If the contract was something which was against the law, Tempest will simply brushed him off and told him to try his luck some place else.

The man introduced himself as Rufus Shinra, Tempest's gut feeling told him that it an odd but powerful name. Rufus said that he will buy Tempest a meal but to the mercenary, it was time to straight down for business. "If you insist... and Tempest is my name by the way." Tempest introduced himself. He never ever introduce himself with his real name, Tempest rather kept his real name to himself and those whom he really put his trust into. "If you have something in your mind, Rufus... I'm listening but if it's about something that up against the law, we're done here. Are we clear on that?" Tempest gave his fair warning to Rufus. Being a former Guardian Corps soldier, Tempest still obeyed the law and never broke it unless the lawbreaking was reasonable.

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R u f u s S h i n r a

firemasterofcheyenne

Beauty was a seductive mistress found in all manner of things: her lure changing from person to person. Some found pleasure in the company of rounded mistresses, or muscular fellows. Others found beauty in the transient existence of gil and wealth. The body, inanimate objects: all of these things were capable of holding, for someone, a sense of beauty even if they were ugly, even terrifying to another. Spiders, snakes, scaled devils… There were all manner of monster to draw pleasure from.

Rufus found elegance in danger. Though he was not prone to throw himself into it, unless it was truly a necessitating factor toward his unquestionable victory, it still called to him. The sleek form of his favorite firearm, or the dark, begging gaze from his Tentacle Hound. These sights called to his blood, chilling it over with a knowledge that they could end him. But being able to tame danger. Yes that was the beauty he saw in it.

The control.

The ability to control something dangerous filled him with a confident power that could not be shaken. Though it had been shaken once. He faced the beauty of death when his office came crumbling down thanks, in part to, a series of unfortunate events. His actions had tipped the already unsteady scales. Diamond WEAPON was a power and beauty he could never tame. The WEAPONs would be ever elusive, but if he ruled over Planet, in the same sense: he could rule over the WEAPONs, which protected her from the deadly lust danger provided by the uncultured, primitive swine of present day.

For Rufus his firearm was not his gun, nor was it his weapon. It was a belonging that he molded and changed to fit his needs. Dark Nation was a companion that did for him what no human ever could. He tamed the pup of the wild and feral monsters of Planet. For the executive his words were the true weapon. Advocates of Tragedy and Peace. When used correctly words could subdue, kill. The spoken word was one of the most dangerous tools man had available to him, yet he watched as many decided, instead, to use weapons and machines to work for them what they could not accomplish.

Even from an early age Rufus could see the fault that lay in this. An empire could not be built on money and machines: cold, soulless toys used to search for a fairy tale that bordered on insanity. Its foundation had to be laid with promises, words that people could mold into physical realities. It was why he found the men of his father’s ‘dependable’ company appalling, at best. Few of them used their words in a way that he could believe build a future. Instead those like Palmer or Heidegger scrouged to bottom of the tank for money so they could chase dreams that were rest upon the former company his late father had built. He wanted his words to hold the capacity to build realities, but to do so one had to train their weapon.

His words were in a state of constant battle, endless training. He always made sure that he used those skillful words to get what he wished. He did not use words of subjugation, but instead the kind of words that forced another to reveal the truth about their nature without him asking of it. Even now the Mercenary fell into his verbal trap, without Rufus ever asking him a question. His smooth, gentle words portrayed facts, even if they were not whole truths. It was indeed fact that Gaia had not seen hide nor hair of the forces of Mercenaries said to be so prolific on the Planet.

In fact Cloud was the last of a dying breed in a world that could not afford to fight again the ruthless terrors that were left behind by his father’s disastrous empire of dreams. Without even asking: the Mercenary jumped to defend his way of life, declaring him an honorable fellow among the rabble of distasteful cretins. It was human nature to want to balance the truths of the world with varying points of view. Tempest could have left Rufus ignorant of the darker shadows among the Mercenary lifestyle, of which he was wholly aware of. Instead Tempest corrected him by adding to the truth and offering himself as a greater example among the cattle.

It showed the type of person Tempest was. It showed the core of his beliefs. Even if he only meant to provide information of his work; he had given Rufus much more. It provided Rufus with someone to manipulate, to be used. It would be troublesome if the lad had an insatiable hunger for war, indefinitely turning Rufus’ goals on their head. The man gave Rufus his name and his creedo, but he had already provided the man with so much more.

Nothing against the law? He was the law.

It was a match made in the Lifestream, to be sure. Rufus clapped his hands together, blue eyes pinching up as he smiled. It was a beautiful mask Rufus wore best. It showed such a pure and wondrous smile that it was indiscernible from a real smile. But his feelings were warm. It was certainly turning around for him this day. A new tool for the taking, but before jumping in Rufus would earn the trust of the soldier, because regardless what this man called himself: mercenary, gun for hire… he was a soldier. He was a man trained to war and fighting and following orders. But a man could not follow what he did not trust carry the same beliefs as he. It was the simple nature of the man-animal.

Even if the man's intentions were not clear, his goal was a simple one that did not require the gun to reach beyond his personal boundaries. Rufus had no intention of harming Planet, far from it. He was perfectly sate in simply holding the power that he had always held over the planet. Killing was not illegal, so long as it was in self defense. He already had the Turks playing that card for him, but having an extra hand that was far more honorable in their actions was a fine means of deterring his enemies and hushing grudges of the past. Acting for the good of others did not always go along swimmingly, but fewer voices spoke up with such power at hand.

But he was putting pleasure before business. There was a task to be had. Rufus nodded his head, wordlessly agreeing with the fellow. As a man of business he always kept his word, as black as it seemed. He only needed the gun, not his bullets. There would be no need for Tempest to ever stoop to any sordid and illegal acts. At least, knowingly.

But, concerning his earlier offer: Tempest agrees, so long as his terms were met. “Please, that is no problem at all! I will be glad to talk with you over a nice hot meal.” It had been a while since his arrival so a meal would settle well in him as well. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Tempest.” He offered.

A meal would do splendidly, but it would be only the finest food in the finest restaurant. Rufus had the gil to spend and he would spend it how he pleased. After gathering his key from the nervous innkeep, the golden haired man settled it into his pocket. The thin fabric of his suit allowed Rufus the feel the contents of his pockets, but this did not provide warmth, something that was compensated against with under clothing that offered the extra comfort of warmth without demeaning him with the need to sweat. He allowed his eyes to trace the counter's top, but he could not locate what it was he desired. He wanted maps, local maps. With no PHS at hand he had to deal with analog services for a while. When he arrived he found no service on his phone. A strange black screen with a narrow yellow line running across the monitor. He was without calls or access to geographical data at the time. Did this world have digital towers?

Sharp features pulled into an alluring smile, the venomous nature of this beautiful man hidden behind a trained elegance that was second nature for him to act upon.

"Excuse me, but do you know of any fine dining establishments nearby?" The question was simple enough, but with Dark Nation looming, his muzzle easily reaching onto the counter, the innkeep found their tongue tied.

The executive was glad to see that, even on this world Dark Nation had the ability to instill fear. It fed his every moment, knowing he wield such a dangerous power, one that could just as easily turn on him.

They would finally find their tongue to speak and explain of a part of town with restaurants, bakeries and other places filled with fine dining. After the innkeep shakily drew a small map, Rufus would thank them and head for that part of Radiant Garden. The place Rufus would pick was upscale, but still modest considering the nature of the humble world. As they waited to be seated Rufus looked to Tempest.

"Ah, I heard you mention earlier... The Restoration Committee." He was curious about that unknown factor.

The pair would finally be led to a seat. The seater dared not to speak up about the hound as it pranced beside Rufus with a fierce air of protectiveness around it. A growl rumbled from the devilish Tentacle Hound when any drew too near to his beloved master.

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Tempest grabbed his duffel bag and turned around to walk with Rufus. "I'll be back and don't take away my mug," Tempest told the innkeeper as he walking away from the innkeeper. Walk side by side with Rufus, something did tell him that this stranger was neither evil or good, Tempest had his hard time of observing him. About his companion, Tempest shook his head slightly for a moment as every pedestrians quickly out of their way. That bloody hound scaring off the pedestrians was ticking him off and if this continue, Tempest had to criticize Rufus about his pet. As they founded the restaurant, Tempest just walked in alongside with Rufus and his pet. The mercenary sat down at the opposite of Rufus and his companion, much to his comfort. Before he could have his order, Tempest realized that the seater was scared to speechless due to the bloody hound. "I'm flaming annoyed with him so you better keep the lad leashed Rufus, otherwise we will not have anything left for our stomach till tomorrow." Tempest's voice bellowed from his helmet to Rufus about his hound without looking at him, his eyes were already on the menu.

Then, the prices of the food just gave him an eyesore. Munny? All he had was Gil from his homeworld and no doubt that this place will not receive Pulse currencies as payment, Tempest would not mind of washing dishes behind the restaurant if the restaurant here realized that he did not have any "Munny" in his pockets. "Give me something nice, that is all." Tempest said to the seater after handled the menu to him. Time to reveal his face, Tempest put down his duffel bag beside him and took off his helmet, placed it on the duffel bag. When Rufus asked about the Restoration Committee, "Aye, I've heard about that from the innkeeper and one moment." Tempest pointed his finger up for a halt and dipped his hand into his leg bag. He grabbed out his Academy-issued rugged tablet and began to search the information about the Restoration Committee. "Radient Garden Restoration Committee.. an organization dedicate to restore this place and get rid of Heartless. It was led by a lad goes by the name of Leon. Well he's not the only member in this organization, there's more of them." Tempest handed his rugged tablet to Rufus, he did not need to teach him how to use it.

The tablet shown all the members of the Restoration Committee and their information, it was his luck that he brought his rugged tablet. Speaking of this organization, Tempest remembered that there was an organization named Team Nora when he was still running in the Bodhum Security Regiment. He never met them though but their exploits became well known among the soldiers within Bodhum Security Regiment including the Wolves. Some looked at Nora as real back up while others looking at them as nuisance, Tempest knew that some of the Nora members were so young that they can barely hold a gun. "Does this organization interesting to you? It does for me," Tempest asked Rufus while rubbing his chin with his gloved hand, still waiting for his food to place in front of him.

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R u f u s S h i n r a

firemasterofcheyenne

Rufus held no illusions about his power. There were no inherent thoughts of godhood in his mind. He knew that all actions in this world had reactions which could be carefully calculated and measured. Even the mad ramblings of a psychopath had a direction. It was simply a matter of understanding the human will and his ability to absurdly exceed their limitations when pushed. This was why you did not push them so. You gently led them down a path they preferred and lured them toward ones favored by him.

If all else failed: the Turks had their orders.

His goals were simple, aligning neither with good or evil intentions. His actions, which were questionable at times, were always clear cut. He sought to rebuild his world and place it on, not only more stable footing, but make it stronger. Yes he wanted to make it stronger to avoid the mistakes his father made. He knew that every ally and enemy he made from here on in would shape Planet's power and place in a world, a universe: that had grown much bigger, faster than they had time to prepare. He may now put Planet's health forward, he still fought for his ideals, and his alone.

Dark Nation was indeed a ferocious beast and was best kept at arms length, or even further. Its talons dug into the ground as he stepped and his tentacle lashed across the air as his shoulders undulated with his forward march. The tentacle was red in coloration, showing the sensitive limb was not simply a misplaced tail. The length of tentacle thinned incredibly as it drew toward the end; it was like a straight whip.

The long, erect ears of the bound added to the sharp, angular features of his skull. The insides of the ears were a dark skin, lightly tinted with pink. It made the beast look all the more terrifying even if its lithe body looked nearly emaciated with the way the bones of his spine protruded in the curved arch of the hound's back, or the ribs that clearly made up the deep, solid rib cage. The deep chest helped its stamina by allowing a greater intake of air, and the streamline form of its body allowed it speed and the curve of its back acted like a bow; his muscles letting him race fast enough to run alongside a vehicle with ease. It looked more like a devil than a dog.

The mercenary seemed to finally show stress with such a vicious looking hound causing the populous to cringe, part and disperse with but a snort. When they were seated Tempest loudly complained about the beast’s nature to avert the approach of other people, why even the workforce seemed utterly unnerved by its presence, but it was important for Rufus. Not only did it keep useless banter to a minimum, but it also made others think twice.

An animal was no human.

They did not trust their eyes as humans did. Dark Nation would know, before Rufus, if a man or woman were out for his blood. An animal could be trusted to be absolutely loyal. Hounds could be trusted to obey and do what was best for their master, for even if ordered to run, a dog would never abandon his charge. After all Rufus was an alpha hunter. He was an apex predator. And he provided the food for his beasts, but only if they worked. Dogs were not to be mistreated and were to be trained. After all it was hard to catch hares with unwilling hounds. You had to lead your dogs to trust you.

This mercenary was just another dog to be trained.

When the man sat, he did so with grace. Settling into the seat his body sank against it as if it had been made for him. Dark Nation sat by his side without command, staring at the server as they arrived, trembling. Perhaps it had was finally struck at Tempest’s irritation. The beast was unsettling. Rufus reached out to test the ultimate claim to ownership. He laid his hand so that his palm would clutch the sensitive tentacle, this from which the hounds fed from the lifeforce of the living. Bare fingers rest upon the fleshy limb, dragging down until he reached the end of it. The hound sat there, eyes pinching slightly in recognition its never filled tentacle was being touched. Rufus held up the end of the tentacle in amusement, looking to it as if it was some precious gem.

“Back home --” It was obvious now this man was not a member of this world. His gil showed the obvious truth. “The hounds wore spiked lancelets at the ends of their tails, and armor upon their skulls.” Dark Nation was bare of any of the intimidating centerpieces, but he was still terrifying all his own, and Rufus saw to it.

The server was still shaking. They had barely handed the menu to Tempest and Rufus. When the waiter hand out the menu to Rufus the man took a moment to order. When Tempest decided, vaguely, Rufus decided to be a bit clearer on his decision. A larger dinner for him, full course, and of course a meal for his loyal hound. He leaned forward and laid a small pouch of gil in the server’s hands.

“Would you mind doing an exchange in coin for me, enough to pay for his meal, and my own? Whatever is left you can keep for yourself.” A generous man, but truly a snake in the grass.

He always held a neutral air about him, one who had no ulterior agenda beyond the one he has provided to the world before him. There were far too many steps in his plan for it to be deciphered so easily. He looked to Tempest who now seemed to be eagerly awaiting his meal. Sitting back the man began to explain about the Restoration Committee. By comparison they much sounded like Tsueti’s WRO, which meant they had a singular goal in mind, making them easier to manipulate. Reaching out he took the strange device and looked over the information on it. The device seemed to be a datapad of some sort. Not a kind he was familiar with, but still useful a tool to own.

“They are interesting… a young group supporting the restoration of their homeworld? The world sure is changing… What do you say we go together? I would be, of course, willing to hire you for my own deeds, which actually align with their activities, but on my home.” Now this was interesting, Rufus felt.

People sure were sympathetic toward a world in peril….

It was not long before the food arrived, set down for the three men. The server was a bit more perky considering that tip….

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Tempest stared blankly at his food for a moment, he crossed his arms onto his chest and leaned his back against the chair. So this Rufus indeed had something in his mind, something which was no good but no sinister, something neutral. He told him that he could hire him for his organization, claimed that he was done the deeds like Radient Garden Restoration Committee but rather in his homeworld. "So you're telling me that you're not from here but from another world? That goes to me as well." Tempest tilted his head a little and turned his eyes towards to Rufus's hound again, then he focused back onto the master of the hound.

Something told Tempest that this was not the way but the man was curious and eager to know what kind of proposal that this man had to offer. "Very well, I'll start a few things for you before you hire me and my lads." Tempest cleared his throat for a moment and scooted near to the table, staring at his food on the plate. "First at foremost, I will start questioning your orders and authority if I found something is amiss, whether you like it or not. Second, you can assign your best operatives along with my mercenaries but they better don't get in our way. Third, payment must be exact on time and at last," Tempest reached his hand to his knife behind his waist and grabbed it, he spun it in his palm and stabbed violently onto the steak on the plate, everyone in the restaurant turned their heads at Tempest and Rufus's table. "I do not tolerate betrayal because I found it rather deeper than a wound and don't expect I will give my loyalty wholeheartedly to you, selling own loyalty fully to others is rather cheap. A hound can be tamed but a wolf? It always remain wild and independent." Tempest said to Rufus as he cutting the steak with his knife, he grabbed a small portion of it and placed near to his lips,

"I hope I'm not that harsh to you, it is just my style of... socialization with a client and... I already get used to using my knife on food, old habits die hard eh?" Tempest shrugged a little and placed the small piece of steak into his mouth, started to chew it. "I must say, this is a bloody fine steak." Tempest commented on his steak and pointed his knife at Rufus's food, a sign of "give it a shot". Then again, Tempest leaned his back to his chair and placed his knife at the side of his plate. "Well, let's hear what you offer... Mr Shinra." Tempest said to Rufus while crossing his arms onto his chest for second time, he just sat there and eyed Rufus for his offer.

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R u f u s S h i n r a

firemasterofcheyenne

Rufus was the epitome of elegance. When his plate arrived along with Tempest's, the executive made sure to thank the help before lying the provided handkerchief over his lap. White clothing made this action a necessity, but it was a hallmark trait of a man with etiquette. This was a man built upon an ideal, raised solely to rule over empire paved with hopes and dreams. He, instead, was instilled with the cold logic that a man that did not act was better off dead. Rivals were to be kept on short leashes and those with reason and intent to disrupt one's forward path of progress was taken care of.

The soldier was to the point. Rufus simply cut into his meal, taking in the aroma of his mixed dish of meats and vegetables. Rufus was not an individual who had a diverse palette, which often contributes to his stomach problems, but he tried to consider his diet and the state of his health. If he fell I'll than there would be none to rule over the empire he conquered with the death of one man. Though the Turks did well in his temporary absence, they did so under the belief that his return was assured. The Turks also acted because the Planet was also their only home.

Rufus' intentions were open to interpretation, but they never truly revealed. His words and actions always matched, but the goal was his and his alone. He was a master of discerning the actions of others. Humans were simple creatures after all. They ran on three modes: honor, betrayal, and siding. Those with honor were the likes like the Turks who worked for a goal they believed in. Betrayal was reserved for those like Hojo; they turned on the hand that fed them the moment it suited their needs, as soon as they felt their usefulness had come to an end. Than there were the siders, like Palmer. Whoever kept them safe and paid would hold their cowardly loyalty. So, in the end, so long as he was capable of planning for these contingencies he was capable of reaching his goals.

"You needn't worry of such things." He spoke after the man asserted his will to question orders. "A man who blindly follows orders is no more than an animal taking commands. They are incapable of adapting to change."

Dark Nation had laid himself down. A trained beast of the wilds a tamed house pet, but the Hound was no mere lap pet. He too was a soldier, Rufus' personal fighter. The patience Rufus held was that of a man of business. He was disinclined to the loud, complaining demands his board was often were guilty of when their wants and needs were not met. No, this required adapting.

"There is no need to worry. He would only require you to act in the field. These worlds... They are dangerous. Even if habited by friendlies, the beasts that fill it are not. I would only require you and your team," of which by Tempest's proud assertion he was part of a team. "And if there are... dangerous fiends, taking care of them." Simple reconnaissance and reporting finds. Mercenaries were best for these sort of tasks. "Rest assured you will be paid, in full and on time."

It seemed money, rather than fear these days, made the world go round.

[Deleted]

Since that Rufus stated that a person who followed orders blindly was a mindless animal, Tempest agreed with that within the bottom of his heart. "Good, then we understand each other," Tempest leaned his back to his seat. He listened closely to Rufus, the upcoming tasks for him and his mercenaries will be some sort of surveillance around the worlds and if there was any threats, Rufus will send Tempest and his mercenaries to clear them out. "You also can throw me into some... special operations if you encounter any difficulties." Tempest said to Rufus while closing his eyes and tilting his head a little. Not just a former Guardian Corps soldier, Tempest was the captain of "Special Combat Group" within Bodhum Security Regiment, a classified section of Guardian Corps soldiers who were expertize in special operations and predecessors of Wayfaring Wolves. Instead of dealing with domestic issues and problems, SCG conducted raids on criminal hideouts and foiled smuggling operations around Bodhum. Though did numerous feats, SCG kept to themselves and they were hailed as unsung heroes by those who knew the existence of the group.

Tempest did not noticed that he already finished his steak, now what was left was his drink. "Even though our services might cost lots of quids out from your pockets, I assured you that we always get the job done." Tempest said to Rufus with his sense of confidence. Despite he determined to offer his mercenaries' service to him, Tempest did not trust Rufus entirely but he done this in order to make a living for him and his mercenaries, as long as the Academy did not found about this otherwise Tempest had to answer to the Academy officials. If there was something not right in the future when in the service for Rufus, Tempest will have to go for deep covert investigation and hoped that Rufus or his associates will not catch him red-handed. Although unsure about the future, Tempest will be ready for anything... and so did his mercenaries will do the same.

"Speaking of new worlds, there might be some difference between the firearms and weapons of your world and my world so... I might need to go for a few rounds in the shooting range if I enter your world." Tempest said to Rufus while reaching his hand to his drink, his gloved hand surrounded the mug and placed it near to his lips. "When will we start?" Tempest asked Rufus while quirking his left eyebrow, he immediately drank slightly from his drink. The drink was kind of sweet, like grape juice but mixed with a little alcohol... a grape wine perhaps?

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R u f u s S h i n r a

firemasterofcheyenne

Tempest seemed satisfied by his intentions, at least those that he revealed. The man seemed to take a prideful stance on being able to complete a job. Though he had great confidence in doing so, in truth the world was full of uncertainties. One could not predict the future so such foolhardiness had its disadvantages. He was assured that their openness toward special operations was guaranteed if there was trouble by this leader of theirs. In truth Rufus would likely not provide them with such tasks. Such operations required men who did not mind doing the dirty work and that was only one group he knew capable of separating business and pleasure. Of course, in the long run, this has provided the Turks with an outstanding amount of power to freely take control of the greater world, but they had not. They were dictated by something far greater than a sense of power and greed, but an understanding of master and vassal.

If not for many of the actions set out by Rufus the Turks risked becoming the scapegoats in the failed plans of the days when they sought to act with compassion. men with compassion were fed to the sharks of the business world, but Rufus has seen their usefulness and would not fail to spare to them their lives on his word. There it would create a bond that not even the end of the world was capable of breaking. He was a master of his domain and all dogs would obey, but neither would he have a bunch of slobbering mongrels incapable of basic thought. To rule a world you needed both fools and the competent, but keeping the fools around did little to warn you of any and all coming dangers that may entail the life of a government executive.

The executive meticulously separated his vegetables from his meat and the greens from one another. Carrots and peas were parted by his knife while his fork settled the meat to the plate’s edge. Slices of meat were diligently cut into small pieces before shuffled near the select vegetable. All of it was taken up by the fork into his mouth. He chewed slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, but in truth he was delaying the inevitable question. His pace was something difficult to follow as he was always so very calm, even when the situation stood to be dangerous, life threatening. A soft smile curved over his lips, feeling that sweet flavor of the meat which had been drizzled with wine as it was cooked. The vegetables retained their rich flavor and armor being lightly steamed and left mostly raw for the most beneficial consumption.

Tempest brought up the matter of weapons being rather variant on other words. Honestly that was his precise worry. If he was to face another world and that was far too much for them to handle it was honestly best to force -- ah suggest someone unrelated and not very valuable toward planet do so in the stead of his own resources. Mid chew Rufus reached for his handkerchief and held it to his mouth, his chest heaving slightly with a chuckle. Dapping his lips of any unsightly smears of grease or bits of food he would turn those peaceful looking orbs of blue toward the mercenary, smiling brilliantly.

“I would appreciate all the help you can offer. I have rights to wrong and it is not something I can do alone.” He set the used kerchief down by his plate and his utensils resting on the empty, porcelain surface. “If ever he finds his way to my world, he will have every available resource from my people at his and his company’s disposal.” He promised.

Rufus settled his hands into his lap. He was calm and quiet as he considered Tempest’s question. Of course he wanted him to start straight away, but communication was key, something of which he had to learn to do between worlds with his men. He moved to open his jacket and reached into one of the inner pockets. After a moment the executive pulled out a PHS. The object was sleek and had a smooth design. It was black and inside would have the usual applications of all Shinra-issued devices, which would include Rufus’ and Tseng’s contact information. The president set it on the table and pushed it forward. A gift for his newly appointed comrade. Things would become easier.

“This is a portable handheld system, it allows for communication, normally.” He regretted its failure in some aspects and would have to have that remedied as soon as he made it home. “It can be used to accept information, but in other worlds it has trouble, something I look to remedy with a simple system download as soon as I am home.” In fact his next goal was locating the computer systems of this world and learning of their communications network so he could set up his own means of contacting those with Shinra PHS more quickly. “I would prefer he start right away. After dinner, shall we walk and talk?”

He was a charismatic man that traveled along on his own pace. He stood from his seat, Dark Nation standing as well, attentively alert to all his master’s actions. Rufus smiled and would wait for Tempest. He had his own questions and curiosities after all.

“My first goal is merely conducting an exploration on the available communications of this world. If I want to speak with them as I speak with you, from such a great distance, I need to learn how they do so, why even travel as they do.” He gave pause, the sweet evening air hitting his face as he stepped outside. “Do you think this is a situation that could be repaired?”

Communication was key in any war.

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Tempest listened closely to Rufus, then the man handed out a device which the mercenary never seen it before. Rufus called it a portable handheld system for communications between him and Tempest. It can be used for adding information but Rufus told Tempest that it will be useless in other worlds, that was logical for him. Then, Rufus got up from his seat along with his hound, Tempest sheathed his knife behind his waist and bent down to grabbed his duffel bag. As he got up from his seat, Tempest reached his hand to his helmet and put it on once more, the faceplated helmet covered his face again. Without haste, Tempest walked side by side with Rufus and his hound, the mercenary listened closely to the man even though he did not looked at him directly with his eyes.

Rufus's goal was to organized exploration in this world, that meant setting up a communication right here. He needed to know that how the individuals managed to contact with each other even from a very far distance and how did they travel, Rufus asked Tempest that can he and his mercenaries handle this situation. "You mean asking the locals about how did the communication works around here? That sounds like a first job to me but I can handle it." Tempest told Rufus his answer. This Rufus did not looked like a businessman or sort, Tempest recognized the way he speaking of his goals... Rufus were much alike the scientists of the Academy, these bloody geeks annoyed the mercenary at times, too much whining and complaining from them.

If Rufus decided to setting more communications on the other worlds, it will benefited not just to himself but Tempest and the Academy as well, that way will made Tempest's job more easier than before. "It will be much easier if you setting your own communication post here, so you can rely on your associates to collect information and send them to you instead of relying the locals around here. Some locals are not willing to share the information around here especially with those who are foreigners from other worlds." Tempest said to Rufus with grimace. After he arrived here, Tempest did asked some locals about how communication worked around here so he could contact the Academy and his Mercenaries but none of them willing to share with him... typical.  "Tell me more about this job and the details." Tempest's voice bellowed from his helmet and he stopped his tracks.

[Deleted]

R u f u s S h i n r a

firemasterofcheyenne

Communications were often seen as a means for creatures to exchange ideas, feelings and their intentions toward other beings. Some creatures communicated through body language, while the more advanced creatures provided art and speech as a means of expressing their ideas, but what many did not know was that communication also generated culture. The ability to communicate bred traditions, habits and unique skills given to that particular group of organisms. Why even some animals were capable of human sentience such as Chocobos and whatever species the red beasts of Cosmo Canyon were known as. Culture, even down to the tiniest ant, existed, though it was not oft recognized by man as anything great.

But what these uncultured swine thought they knew of communication defiled its very meaning. They believed that communications were meant to be secret, hidden. The executive knew that one day, everyone would come to discover the things that were communicated, one way or another. It was better to earnestly express your intentions rather than exert effort into hiding what was meant to be shared. To share, this was what communication meant. It was why his father was unable to stand atop his empire, for the obstacles created by his own hidden intentions paved the way for his own death, unexpected, yet wholly deserved. From the beginning Rufus expressed his intentions to find the true Promised Land, did it so exist, and rule the world with the more honest function of fear.

Though it did not all pan out as well as he wished.

Even so none of this worked to deter the businessman. Even as he walked beside Tempest, the man’s words revealing a much familiar belief that communications should remain secret, were apparent. Now not all communications were told to everyone. It was not saying one could not withhold information, but it was important to understand that the truth was always, eventually, revealed. One day these fools would understand his true intentions, but by than it would be too late wouldn’t it? That was all that mattered. So long as he had time to do what he needed to do, even if they discovered the reasons toward his communications, it would be far too late to stop the wheels that are being set in motion.

He could not help but laugh out, his hands slipping into the pockets of his pants. Dark Nation strode along at his side, the Tentacle Hound peering up at his master with those beady, yellow glowing eyes. His tentacle pulsed red, the end spined and likely not the most pleasant thing to be punctured with. They were called Tentacle Hounds for a reason after all…. The sharp eared beast lowered its head when Rufus reached down to brush his bare fingertips against the pricked ears. The beast’s stubby tail: which honestly looked more like a weapon with how sharply curved it was, wagged.

“The job is simple enough. Since they do not want to share their communications secrets, we will have to find another way, hmm?” There were a few things he was developing, and he wanted to test this out.

He pulled his left hand from his pocket and held out a small, folded paper for Tempest. On the paper was some sort of coordinate, and numbers that followed. The theory was that if one used the worlds to bounce signals off of: without interference, one could call another planet using the same exact frequency. It would allow the two groups to communicate with minor interference from the worlds until a more stable method was provided. But it was too risky. Other worlds could intercept the communications, all but destroying the signal before it reached their destination ,but there was another means of contact.

“This is an address for my computer. It may be a bit less efficient, but I want you to locate the leader of the Committee and give him this. Establish friendly communications. A simple job, offer them a chance to be friends, offer your services.” He smirked. “I hear now a days the streets are dangerous for the common man. Without civilians we have no one to lead.” Protecting them, was protecting your prized possessions.

Rufus would allow Tempest to take it before he turned to head back to the hotel, Dark Nation at his heels. The sharply dressed man gave pause and settled his right hand on his hip before glancing back over his shoulder to the man. The worlds were changing and Rufus would not be left behind. Cid continued to manage and amass a plethora of technology that would serve Planet in her future. He had to turn the people around and provide them with a pure, clean energy that did not take from the life of their fragile Planet. Well -- she was not so fragile, so the scar on his head told him so. Those weapons were quite a retaliatory strike. Deepground provided a door into new technology, old technology long forgotten by his family. His father was an idiot chasing a dream of fairy tales and he had nearly sunk into his pace. But now he followed his own dream. It would be a dream into the future and it would revolt against the old enterprise of greed.

Change marked the age old game of progression.

“We have to act if we want the world to change. Progressing forward is all man knows how to do, but communicating clearly will afford us a means without sacrificing the health of the world.” He motioned his covered hand and continued off. Rufus had his mercenary. “You may contact me through the PHS, it will connect to a terminal as a secondary network if it has no recognizable towers to reach. Once your mission is done I will forward your pay through an account on your PHS, which you can exchange for monetary compensation.” Credits that could be used easily.

The man continued on. He was through for the night. The Mercenary had his mission, and he had his hand outside of the fishbowl. The curious cat always made sure to blame the dog.

It would be an interesting future. Rufus wanted to live to see it. Even if he and his brothers were distant and had their own goals, they still manifested in the ideology of a true Shinra: finding what makes the world go round, and making sure you leave your mark there with that you built upon it, was the destiny of all cultures. Whether they live or die, their mark will remain.

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Rufus has left the thread.

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"..." Tempest remained silent for a moment and pondered deeply about this kind of task. Rufus was right, if there was no locals can be convinced, then both him and Tempest will find another way. It was a risky gamble but Tempest willing to took the risk, as long as he get paid after the task. "Just give the address to the man eh? Very well, I'll do it." Tempest took the folded paper away from Rufus's hand and the man turned his back on him, so did his hound. Tempest stuffed the folded paper into his magazine pouch. As Tempest slung his duffel bag across his back, the mercenary heard from Rufus that these days the streets were quite dangerous for civilians... which was really true.

They had to act if they want the world to change, what Rufus meant that he wanted change it, not Tempest who was just doing his job. Communication was vital and important especially in warfare, information was a weapon that could change the course of a war. Much to his delight, Tempest was told that he will get paid as soon as the job done, there was a slight smirk beneath the face-plated helmet of his. "I hold you on that promise, Rufus." Tempest said quietly as he watching the man and his hound leaving him behind. After the duo left, Tempest realized that something beeping in his helmet... incoming call from Wayfaring Wolves HQ in Pulse, no doubt about it. Raising his finger near to his helmet, Tempest pressed the communication button and laid down his hand for a moment.

"Tempest here, over."
"How's the things over there?"
"As usual, nothing hostile so far and send some of the lads here."
"Why's that, sir?"

"Got a job here, I'll brief you once you're here." Tempest said as he walking away from the streets. First day arrived at an unknown world and got a job directly, things was going to get lovely and interesting for the mercenaries. He adjusted his duffel bag a little, Tempest needed to get back to the inn and have a rest for a while. First thing tomorrow was to check every equipment and weapons, then headed to look for the leader of this Committee organization. As he thought, things was going to be lovely and interesting now.

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Tempest Left The Thread