Midgar, Sector 4, WRO Headquarters: 0800 hours
Who: Reeve (and various Cait Sith units)
Status: Open to WRO/AVALANCHE members
When: 8:00AM
Where: WRO HQ, 11th Floor (President's office)
What: Reeve doesn't like mornings. Three guesses as to why.
Sometimes Reeve wondered if the world was really out to get him. Like now, with the Broken Edge staring him straight in the face; he'd let his coffee grow tepid as he read and re-read the front-page article, feeling a pit sinking in the middle of his stomach.
BioFuse.
The very name set his teeth on edge.
Every morning, it was more of the same- praise and accolades for BioFuse, denouncements of the WRO, and even hints that ShinRa's old reign might've been preferable to the new and unstable world order still developing. Of course a single company could reverse the decades of damage done by ShinRa in a year of so. Perfectly reasonable. And of course he could create jobs out of thin air and employ the entire populace of Edge- and the populations of Junon, Rocket Town, Fort Condor, and Costa del Sol as well, because really, what was a few million jobs? Snap of the fingers to create, right? Oh, and of course the WRO was just a ShinRa front, and they were failing at their purpose, and so many damned things that it made Reeve want to throw something out of his office window. Like himself.
"... temper, temper," came a little voice beside him. Cait Sith had hopped up onto his desk to refresh his coffee; the little automaton gave him a paw-wave when he sighed. "C'mon now. S'not like th' monument was a waste, was it? Think o' th' jobs created f'r it's construction! Y'know th' tabloids ain't gonna focus on th' positives."
Reeve managed a slight grin. A purr beside him, and Pixel, his orange Siamese mix, was in his lap happily shedding on his rumpled shirt. Cait tapped his boot impatiently on the desktop, his tail scattering reports onto the floor. "An' ya slept in yer clothes again t' boot."
"Did not. I didn't sleep at all." Which was becoming routine. He hadn't been to his studio apartment in three days now- sometimes he wondered if he shouldn't just move into WRO headquarters and be done with it. "Adjusting a few things, is all. Which reminds me...." He made a circular motion in the air with one finger; Cait shook his head. "I need to get in touch with a few people today. Send a memo to Urban Dev. Let them know priority on the bid is going to whoever will contract out the most jobs to public workers and still stay within budget." Reeve paused and sipped at his coffee. "And if... someone... calls, I'm busy."
Cait nodded with a stifled laugh. 'Someone' wouldn't like it if he called and demanded a meeting with Reeve, but Rufus would learn to live with it. It was a fine edge Reeve walked- keeping Rufus content and sending over funds while generally ignoring most of what the young man wanted in return. The WRO had started with the funds from Reeve's own pockets first, and the organization was his and his alone.
Which he was proud of, when the papers weren't shoving various failures in his face.
He lifted up the first report of the day and browsed it over the rim of his mug. "... hmm." After a pause Reeve flipped open his cell and pressed speed dial. Seemed that Vincent was hitching rides again... maybe it was time he touched base with the former Turk.
Status: Open to WRO/AVALANCHE members
When: 8:00AM
Where: WRO HQ, 11th Floor (President's office)
What: Reeve doesn't like mornings. Three guesses as to why.
Sometimes Reeve wondered if the world was really out to get him. Like now, with the Broken Edge staring him straight in the face; he'd let his coffee grow tepid as he read and re-read the front-page article, feeling a pit sinking in the middle of his stomach.
BioFuse.
The very name set his teeth on edge.
Every morning, it was more of the same- praise and accolades for BioFuse, denouncements of the WRO, and even hints that ShinRa's old reign might've been preferable to the new and unstable world order still developing. Of course a single company could reverse the decades of damage done by ShinRa in a year of so. Perfectly reasonable. And of course he could create jobs out of thin air and employ the entire populace of Edge- and the populations of Junon, Rocket Town, Fort Condor, and Costa del Sol as well, because really, what was a few million jobs? Snap of the fingers to create, right? Oh, and of course the WRO was just a ShinRa front, and they were failing at their purpose, and so many damned things that it made Reeve want to throw something out of his office window. Like himself.
"... temper, temper," came a little voice beside him. Cait Sith had hopped up onto his desk to refresh his coffee; the little automaton gave him a paw-wave when he sighed. "C'mon now. S'not like th' monument was a waste, was it? Think o' th' jobs created f'r it's construction! Y'know th' tabloids ain't gonna focus on th' positives."
Reeve managed a slight grin. A purr beside him, and Pixel, his orange Siamese mix, was in his lap happily shedding on his rumpled shirt. Cait tapped his boot impatiently on the desktop, his tail scattering reports onto the floor. "An' ya slept in yer clothes again t' boot."
"Did not. I didn't sleep at all." Which was becoming routine. He hadn't been to his studio apartment in three days now- sometimes he wondered if he shouldn't just move into WRO headquarters and be done with it. "Adjusting a few things, is all. Which reminds me...." He made a circular motion in the air with one finger; Cait shook his head. "I need to get in touch with a few people today. Send a memo to Urban Dev. Let them know priority on the bid is going to whoever will contract out the most jobs to public workers and still stay within budget." Reeve paused and sipped at his coffee. "And if... someone... calls, I'm busy."
Cait nodded with a stifled laugh. 'Someone' wouldn't like it if he called and demanded a meeting with Reeve, but Rufus would learn to live with it. It was a fine edge Reeve walked- keeping Rufus content and sending over funds while generally ignoring most of what the young man wanted in return. The WRO had started with the funds from Reeve's own pockets first, and the organization was his and his alone.
Which he was proud of, when the papers weren't shoving various failures in his face.
He lifted up the first report of the day and browsed it over the rim of his mug. "... hmm." After a pause Reeve flipped open his cell and pressed speed dial. Seemed that Vincent was hitching rides again... maybe it was time he touched base with the former Turk.