Help Wanted! [Rayne/Invite]

[Deleted]

R u f u s S h i n r a

firemasterofcheyenne

It was only ten in the morning and the blond-haired executive was full of nothing but disappointment. He was barely over his sixth cup of coffee and was already dealing with the immodest attempts to hide the insufferable amounts of missing work ethic. Aside from the fact tools were laid about in the open where they could be stolen, but there was also the matter of equipment being ill-maintained. Though the workmen were what one would expect on a military dock: large, burly men who could lift twice their own weight, they were also suspiciously sloven and lazy, calling out to any woman to pass too closely to the piers. They were the reason Rufus needed a sixth coffee as the headaches induced by their sheer incompetence on, what Rufus felt, were simple questions, drew throbbing headaches to the surface. When questioned of the degradation of the current tools they looked at him as if he were speaking Chocobo. If he recalled one response he had received was:

‘It usually works, but banging it hard enough with a wrench’ll start ‘er back up good.’

Ugh, just remembering it was pushing these individual headaches into a full-blown migraine. The inspection was going horribly. Dark Nation followed at Rufus' side; its glaring eyes turned up toward his agonizing master. The Hound wished he could say his master's tormentors, but no command was given. Oh and Rufus had come quite close to giving it, but unfortunately there was so much work to be done and he needed as many bodies as necessary to compensate for the lack of intelligence that the workers seemed to hold. It was like watching an ant colony devastated by a brain eating fungus. One workers infected the next and before one knew it the entire colony was a malfunctioning body that was once unified in all things productive. He could understand the limited resources as they tried to get mining operations back to speed, but if it continued like this the entire economy would collapse around him. There was plenty of raw material from Midgar’s outskirts, but anything too far in was off limits until the effects of Omega’s Fall were reduced. Lifestream levels had started to drop, but the WEAPON and DeepGround’s emergence only rebounded the ill effects surrounding the old Shinra Headquarters.

He needed people who could maintain and repair the old machines and get them back to working order so they can restart operations. They were the ones that supplied weapons to the WRO who fought off the DeepGround resurgence, and they were the ones that provided the advanced mining and other vehicular needs around the continent and part of the world. He would not allow his business to fade away because a few grease monkeys couldn’t even handle a wrench. It stressed the executive greatly. He had put money out with wanted ads for mechanics, but in return all he got were brutes who only knew how to benchpress steel i-beams. If he wanted someone like that he would have gone to Costa del Sol and picked up those meat heads. He settled down in the shade where sat table set up for him, just under the tram that carried the executive up to the Headquarters. There he had a cup of coffee waiting for him and more, useless applications.

He needed soldiers, but those soldiers needed equipment and he was falling short of his profit margin because of their incompetence so he would be forced to start downsizing certain departments. He felt one in particular needed to go…. The old junction of the Space Exploration department. With Palmer AWOL and Highwind investing time elsewhere, it left him with few individuals capable of reaching these goals, but with a new type of construction material Rufus would find his way forward. There the executive sat, in the shade. He was hunched over his table, pen tapping against the ceramic plate his coffee mug sat on. Dark Nation sat proudly, watching over his master. The Tentacle Hound did well to deter straying eyes and whimpering whispers of the blonde-haired man’s interference in ‘men’s work’. Indeed Rufus seemed scrawny and unfit for such things, but he was a Shinra. He did not simply sit around on the fat pockets of his father’s past. He had his own brand of genius that built on a clear view of the whole picture, not just the pawns circled around him.

[Deleted]

(Rayne could use a knight in shining armor, Rufy-boy.)

Rayne Regen Riser

Age: 18

Female

IMAGE

"HEY! STOOOP!!!"

The yell of a large, bellowing male echoed out across the dock. Fury birthed within his tone indicated some serious trouble. Loud, metallic stomping also began to fill the air. What could that be?

Rayne.

Over the angry yelling, a soft, feminine singing could be heard. It echoed out across the entire dock. Though it bore gentleness, it was also dominant and unconquerable. "I never knew!" the singing voice began, "I never knew that everything was falling through!" Atop the shoulders of one of her machines, the Raiden, was Rayne. Clad in her more girlish, playful attire, with her long blonde hair pinned back in her rather adorable twintails. The machine, standing at roughly 6 feet in height, carried in its arms a large wooden crate. It sprinted forth, with Rayne holding her hands atop its head in order to stay on. Her hair whipped back with the wind. The burly man chasing her could hardly keep up, and it was pretty obvious from the way the machine was running that it wasn't moving at top speed.

"That everyone was waiting on a cue, to turn and run when all I needed was the truth!" Rayne continued to sing on, causing other equally burly men to draw their eyes toward her. They began to chase after her as well, and soon enough, she began running around the wide open area leading a train of men behind her. "But that's how it's gotta be!" Rayne lifted her hands from the machine's head, thrusting them up toward the sky with a beaming smile on her face. Though she knew she was causing trouble, it was kind of fun... "It's comin' down to nothin' more than apathy!"

As Rayne continued to run onward, more and more angry men began to chase after her. Her eyes shifted up, now realizing the kind of area she was in. It was kind of like...the shipyards back in Ivalice. Though she'd only been to Warjilis once, it was a very similar kind of place and atmosphere. Lots of big men hurling their weight around for one reason or another, or even for none at all. As Rayne's sprint onward neared what appeared to be a trap, as more men cut off her sprint, she replaced her hands on Raiden's head, causing him to turn and run to the right. "I'd rather run the other way than stay and seeeee-" Even now, she refused to cease her loud, proud, troublesome singing. It was definitely a game at this point, at least for Rayne. It's not like she could make an emergency escape if she needed to. "-the smoke and who's still standing when it cleeears!"

As her emergency right happened to lead toward a large pile of crates, much like the one still carried within her Raiden's arms, she figured her game was about over. The crate needed to be returned to the proper place... It bore the logo of this place on it, so it only made sense it be returned. Rayne's final few lines of lyrics came out much louder, as she had to sing of the newly fired up thrusters upon the Raiden's back and the heels of its feet, propelling it and Rayne into the air proudly. "Everyone knows I'm in, over my head!" With a smooth motion, the Raiden managed to glide over the stack of wooden creates, placing the box in its arms on the top, before kicking off of the it to continue forward. With its arms free, it pointed its elbows forward, firing the thrusters on each in a diagonally downward motion in order to land more safely. As Rayne finally landed and ceased running, she was quickly surrounded by a group of very angry workers, each one heaving as if their lives depended on it.

Rayne raised her hands up in surrender, offering them all a nervous smile. "...Ooover my...head...?" her final lyrics came out in a nervous whisper. The men all shot angry glares at her, as if ready to strike. They seemed so angry they were unphased by the large hunk of metal Rayne was riding on. One of them, the one who had chased her around the longest, pointed an angry finger at Rayne before he barked at her furiously. "What the hell are you doin' here?!"

Rayne tensed up a little, but her nervous smile didn't fade. She needed to remain calm... She breathed out cautiously. "I...I was returning your box. It was dumped o-out, and everything was getting rusty..." The man narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, his jaw shifting in emphasis of his foul mood. The other men clenched their fists. "...Uhm...so I polished the tools and tried to return them, b-but...someone thought I was stealing them instead, so I just...started...playing?" She offered a nervous, but somehow still playful, chuckle. Hopefully this would diffuse the situation, but if not... Rayne's hands gently lowered back down to Raiden's head, resting gently on top of them, while silently, and without visual effect, her linked her energy more directly with it. She'd need to give it enough power to escape if it were called for.

PROFILE

PLOTS

LINK TO ORIGINAL

[Deleted]

R u f u s S h i n r a

firemasterofcheyenne

Rufus sat at the makeshift office space, underneath the shade of the tramcar. Beyond him the soft wash of the ocean below beat against the metal walls that since purged the site below of local habitation. Though efforts to clean up waste that runoff from the base had caused much of the wildlife to return to their native waters: civilians that once called the seaside town of Junon home had since abandoned it during Emerald WEAPON's attacks. In it's entirety Junon was now the only, full-scale Military base, home to WRO Operatives and what remained of the ShinRa Company's paramilitary. There were very few Soldiers left by the company's side and those that chose to join did so to protect their continent. It was difficult to understand, how many chose to remain loyal to the ShinRa corporation, but it was one of the only organized institutions of government the Planet had to instill a sense of order, though many cities on Planet acted as free states with Mayoral candidates that negotiated for goods and the power ShinRa had.

And in truth Rufus would rather keep it that way. He needn't rule the world, so long as he continued to hold the company. And though he sat on the wreckage of a still floating pile of rubble, he could still sail. A man had to have a goal in life, and were Rufus to ever reach his, he needed to continue to rebuild. He had to make money and give Planet a means of protection against another, arrogant fool that sought to ride the heavens with her as a vessel… He needed weapons, but to safeguard this future, he needed to rebuild industry. Such feeble conditions were with their challenges; limited resources, inefficient energy exchange rates and imbecilic teamsters were on the list of obstacles. But one did not simply find help. He had to dig for it.

So there he was, forced to return to his roots. Paperwork was hell, but his keen mind was trained around these mundane tasks. They required a sharp wit and an even keener sense for reading between the lines. Papers of men claiming genius in positions of power that would mean stock in a stable, economic power. Even after Meteorfall ShinRa was not without his finances. The desk itself was but a slab of remelted steel from the old Midgar sites rest upon concrete blocks. He was hunched over the desk, as one would perceive of a paper pusher and not an executive like Rufus. But over ninety percent of running a successful company was paperwork. One could surmise that the reason for his father's failure was his inclination toward a hedonistic lifestyle rather than work.

His hands were cusped at either side of his head as he hung over the depressing spread of candidates as one would lament a lost love over drink. Golden threads of silk slung over his knotted brows, lip pursed in a tight frown. Blue eyes scanned over and over, only to find more despair with every passing sentence 'assuring' him they 'perfect' for the jobs. He mostly sought skilled workers such as pilots, communications specialists and engineers. Thus far he had come across egregious uses of the phrases: model employee and team player. There were at least six run-on sentences in the communications specialist's cover letter and a sheer narcissistic use of 'I' in the pilot's experience where there is explicit mention of teamwork. The contradiction and lack of true experienced workers left him desperate and stuck with a base full halfwitted, inbred Chocbos who fancied themselves real seamen.

Dark Nation could feel the ire rolling off Rufus. It had not helped the banging of metal on metal rang as loudly as his crumbling infrastructure. The Tentacle Hound lay at Rufus' feet, its broad head upon large, paws. Beady eyes lay shut as as cropped ears remained pricked and attentive of the environment, of which suffered numerous safety code violations that Rufus gave up counting. The executive could feel his stomach knotting as the stress built. Soon the coffee would not be enough to keep his headaches at bay. Turning his eye toward his mug the man would sit back and sigh.

"It seems Sephiroth did a stand up job of purging the Planet." He brushed his bangs from his eyes. "He clearly killed all the competent folk." As he reached out for his mug Dark Nation raised his head from his paws, just as a ripple in the dark, reflecting surface of the coffee caught the Shinra's attention.

Rufus leaned forward. It looked as if something fell into his coffee. Looking up, much hoping he was not below on of those aforementioned violations: Dark Nation stood to his paws and growled. Rufus arched a brow and picked up his mug as he stood to walk around his temporary workspace. Moving to stand by the Tentacle Hound Rufus took a sip of the lukewarm liquid, lip curled slightly at the unpleasant taste of barely warm coffee. Soon a herd of these 'workmen' came to surround a young woman on a very unique looking Sweeper mech. Walking to the water's edge he would carefully watch how the situations played itself out. Reaching his mug out he would spill the cooling liquid down into the sea.

"Dark, come." He set down the mug on the desk as he walked passed it, the hound huffing and chasing after his master.

The workers had her surrounded, but she remained, outwardly, calm. The fact of the matter was that these barbaric pigs were already at a disadvantage seeing as she was mounted on a mech. Rufus watched as the standoff began. He supposed he should spare them further embarrassment. Stepping forward the executive’s calm pace would otherwise suggest his intents on helping the aggressive men. Dark Nation curled his black lip over his fangs, a deep growl rumbling from the fiend’s throat. Its red tentacle lashed to and fro in excitement, pacing itself beside Rufus who strode forward with calm, focused purpose. A hand came to rest upon his hip as he sighed, head turning slightly in disgust, but he supposed you got what you paid for in terms of help. He motioned his finger, the movement flashing in the Hound’s peripheral vision. The beast leapt forward and let out an aggressive, barking snarl.

“Enough.” The executive ordered. “Do you really think you’ll get anywhere with her on a mech?” Of course it was a rhetorical question that someone had to answer.

“N-no?” They seemed confused toward the question itself.

By Planet Rufus saw himself having an aneurysm before the day was through… “Get back to work, we’ve no time for these delays.” He seemed to stay patient himself but he was at the end of his rope about ready to hang someone with it.

Dark Nation seated itself and stared straight forward, the intimidating hound fearsome competitor for Rufus’ affection and attention. Rufus eyes the mech, its built much more humanoid than the insectoid, almost crustacean build of the Sweepers and Guardians. His blue eyes drifted up toward the slender figure mounted on the mech, his hand coming up to brush down his bangs as the seaside weather was doing wonders for his hair -- sarcastically so. He was clearly someone in charge. His dress was clean, neat. The white overcoat that sat over the black, pinstriped vest gave him a sense of elegance tapered over by a strange feeling of calm that seemed out of place. He stared at the woman for several moments before finally speaking up.

"And you, seem to be quite the cause of a few delays." At least he could surmise by the fact she had gathered the crewmen's attentions so aggressively.

[Deleted]

Rayne Regen Riser

Age: 18

Female

IMAGE

Just as Rayne felt the situation would spiral out of control, someone else arrived at the scene. With...an odd companion, too. Rayne tensed when the beast accompanying the new male snarled... Last thing she wanted to do was accidentally lead Fenrir to put down someone's pet, no matter how freaky they looked! Rayne's back hunched over subtly, her emerald orbs looking intently at this approaching stranger who demanded the men stop. She gently nipped at the inside of her bottom lip in anticipation.

The stupefied looks passed around by the burly workers indicate that the well-dressed man was their leader, and apparently much more intelligent than they were. Rayne relaxed. Her eyes softened as the man in white seemed to embarrass them before he dismissed them at dogpoint. She studied him as he eyed her beloved Raiden, gently placing her elbow atop the machine's head, resting her chin playfully in her palm as the man suddenly addressed her, with what Rayne interpreted as an understandably irritated directness. "Delays?" Rayne curiously echoed, offering the man a polite smile while her cheeks flushed with a light shade of pink. She stifled a soft giggle. "Hee... I suppose I am!" Rayne raised her head from her palm, her elbow from Raiden's head, and gently clapped her hands together, before un-tightening her legs from their perch on Raiden's shoulders---Prompting her to roll backwards off of the machine, flipping over as she descended to stand upright on the ground. As Rayne ceased her direct physical contact with the Raiden, the flow of sentient energy that was obviously present within it vanished. It wasn't as if it powered down, but more that it lost some powerful strength of will. Though it was likely imperceptible to the average person.

The man seemed agreeable enough to the perky blonde lass, so she felt it was worth greeting him and apologizing for her display properly. Spinning around from behind the sturdy blue machine with a girly twirl, Rayne faced the well-dressed man face to face. Eyeing him over briefly, she had realized just how out of place he was here. The fact that the burly men from before had obeyed him meant he was a figure of importance, and the way he dressed only exacerbated that impression. The fact that he had his own mutant guard dog also gave away a strong message that he was to be protected. Regardless of any of that, Rayne believed in the end, all people were equal. She smiled and offered the man an introductory shake, and if accepted, would do so in a firm display matching the shakes offered upon Ivalice. Grasp the wrist, not the hand, to check for a hidden weapon. That was the way of it. She wasn't suspicious of him, but that was simply how it was done in Ivalice. "I'm very sorry for running amok here, I simply wanted to return a box of tools I had repaired, but one of those men... Well... He thought I was stealing it, and made some very, erm...'flattering' remarks about me as well." Rayne had used the term 'flattering' quite loosely, as she offered Rufus a nervous grin. "I'm Rayne Regen Riser. You can call me Ray, if you want."

After introducing herself, Rayne took a step back, placing her palms gingerly upon her hips, which caused her skirt to softly wrinkle at its edges. She turned her eyes about the packed area, studying it. Some kind of military port? That did explain why her being here caused such a fuss... It was clearly heavily restricted and she was likely in some very hot water about trespassing here. As Rayne spun around on the heel of her sizable but oddly cute boot, she glanced out upon the waters. It wasn't quite noon as far as she could tell... But the water provided a relatively nice view. Rayne reached her hand over, gently clasping the metal finger of Raiden, causing his missing willpower to seemingly spring back to him. Inwardly, Rayne urged him to spin around, so he did, rotating his powerful metal hand in order to maintain his contact with her. The eletronic cameras that were Raiden's eyes could not see the beauty of the water like Rayne's own could. Though she knew, her bond with the machine was still strong enough that she felt the need to share the experience with it.

"This is in a nice place." Rayne spoke up with an amused chuckle. "Too bad it's so poorly maintained. Big, clumsy men like that could never appreciate a good machine or a great view."

PROFILE

PLOTS

LINK TO ORIGINAL