(no subject)
Summary: Rufus in office. Late at night. Remember that team sent to the Black Pool? Plottage ahoy. Swearing. General ick warnings. Yesss.
Eleven PM on a Wednesday night and unsurprisingly, Rufus Shinra was still in his office -- his still pink, but otherwise clean office. Still considering whether or not to make his precious Tifa Lockheart repaint the space. He had employed the help of a dozen cleaning personnel in vacuuming and re-vacuuming all sorts of pink and red items from his carpeting, scraping glued on candy hearts from his walls, and steam cleaning the pinkish hue that his futon seemed to have gained from what appeared to be two pounds of rose petals. He was sure they would be needing some sort of cash bonus for all that work but that was beside the point. It had to be done as he had to be in that office and he wasn’t about to work crunching through candies and flower petals. And while he wanted nothing more than to keep away after that little pink and red stunt, was needed his office. Especially after being put out of commission for the better part of a week. When Monday rolled around he had combed his office for the better part of the day, finding a nice stash of camera equipment hidden here and there. That taken care of, it was back to the never-ending grind of work.
Hunched over a stack of progress reports and business proposals. Rufus stifled a yawn, spreading the paperwork out on his desk, halfway wishing he could take a quick nap on the surface. Wake up in a few hours and continue checking over what the status was on the hull and engines of the rocket. But he knew that wouldn't be the best idea at that moment. He had made a promise. One that he intended to keep no matter what. The date was circled several times over in bright red on the calendar on his desk. Gold Saucer with Tifa. He had to get as much done as possible within the next day to be wholly in the clear on work. Most of all he had to go through everything the engineers had sent him thus far concerning the rocket and make plans concerning the trip to Nibelheim, both of which would take some careful attention as neither rocketry nor science were his strongest fields.
"Head. Hurts," he grumbled to himself as he placed his forehead against the table, noticing a small candy heart apparently overlooked in all the cleaning frenzy. Smile the red text stated and he couldn't help but roll his eyes and cradle his head in his folded arms. Screw that. An hour or two wouldn't kill anyone...
He awoke no more than half an hour later, jolting to his feet with such speed that the swivel chair had crashed to its side, awakening the sleeping panther from her spot several feet away. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, it took him a moment to realize the horrid piercing shriek he was hearing was not a product of his overactive imagination, but his desk phone. Grumbling, he grabbed the device and shouldered it, "What?"
"There has been a breach in outer security, sir. We are in the process of taking care of it."
Rufus pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He had used up his last remaining drops of patience in his internal reserve. "That is truly remarkable. Imagine that. Listen..." He pulled the chair back onto its wheels and plopped back on it, feet onto the desk. "How about you do your job and I do mine and I'll trust that you aren't quite as insipid as you seem to be. Do we have a deal?" Rubbing the last bit of sleep from his eyes, he waited for a response, only to be met by heavy breathing. "Do we--"
"Holy... holy shit." The officer's voice was barely above a whisper, so faint Rufus could barely hear it before he heard a slamming noise and the connection went dead.
He had a sneaking suspicion that said moronic officer was most likely dead as well.
But now wasn't the time to think about that. If his guards were in danger, then the perimeter might not be secure and he had to be prepared. As fast as he was able, Rufus grabbed and holstered the Outsider where it lay hidden by the small of his back, then quickly checked the slots on his shotgun, pleased to find them glistening and ready for action. Coat on and Dark Nation at his side, he opened his door and moved forward to the elevator.
He pressed the button and waited, shotgun in hand as the elevator rose steadily from the bottom floor.
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5...
No one is here... it shouldn't be all the way down there...
He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck bristle a little as he steadied his hold on the weapon and watched the numbers continue to climb. After a moment's hesitation, he moved to the side a little, pressed closer against the wall in case there really was someone in that elevator and he wasn't being paranoid. Dark Nation moved as well, putting her body in between Rufus and the elevator.
He held his breath...
DING!
...And waited.
All was silent but the shuffling of feet. Rufus tensed even more than he thought possible and held the gun steady, readying himself to shoot if necessary.
"President... Rufus. We have returned."
The voice was scratchy and old, yet clearly familiar to the blond. Heaving a sigh of relief, Rufus lessened his tight hold on the Supershot and dropped it to his side. "Dr. Wells. I was beginning to worry that you had skipped out on the mission." He took a step forward but Dark Nation growled and pressed her body closer to him, blocking his way, a deadly, feral look in her yellow eyes.
"Returned... Mission... Newww misssion."
"--What?"
"Her... mission. For the planet. Her will."
Rufus took an unsteady step backward, inwardly cursing himself for giving into fear. But there was something so horribly off... He could feel how wrong things were and that smell... that rotten odor. It took him a moment to realize entirely what it was. And that was precisely when he saw Dr. Wells.
Or what once was one of Shinra's finer scientists.
Rufus couldn't help but take another step back, nor could he help the tiny gasp of terror that hitched in his throat. What he saw seemed to be taken almost directly from one of his nightmares. This old man, although a nuisance, was a decent, hard working employee of his company and was now in front of him... lurching forward with a look that could only be described as madness on his features -- eyes rolled back and mouth slackened. And he appeared to be drenched in sticky crimson, trailing blood on the carpeting. But what got to the President most of all were the splotches of darkness visible even underneath that hue of red.
"Jenovaaa is queeeen. Jenova comes for you..."
Geostigma.
"Oh... God." He couldn't move. Not even while watching the crazed man move forward, arms halfway outstretched. Not even when he heard the shuffling of larger individuals. Nor when Dr. Wells sprung forward only to thankfully be thrown backwards by Dark Nation. But that only occupied the one man.
There were still two more...
They were in a similar state to the doctor, outwardly, covered in blood and slime and what appeared to possibly be chunks of... bone? Underneath all of that he could tell that these were two of the soldiers sent with the doctors. And they too were marked with Geostigma. Obviously, however, they weren't in the same deliberating pain that he himself had been and they appeared to be more severely infected than Rufus had.
"Alone. Alonealonealone."
The first one seemed to be jabbering endlessly, stepping forward one foot after another in Rufus' direction.
"Next. You're next. She comes for you. Next. Next."
The second guard bent forward predator like and what was at first not apparent soon became clear as day. Slightly below the man's shoulder blades were long growths. Four of them.
Two extra pairs of arms.
The man charged.
Rufus wasn't entirely sure how he managed to act, grabbing his shotgun in and firing several shots into the man. No -- creature. It was a split second decision that probably saved his life, leaving the former guard lying on the ground, dark blood oozing from fatal wounds in its chest and stomach. He turned, panting and wide eyed to the other guard and gave it the same treatment, wincing as blood, followed by brain matter splattered against the walls when he hit an artery, the final shot seeming to travel from under its jaw line out the back of its head.
It fell to the ground, extra limbs twitching a moment and then growing still. Rufus felt distinctly like he was going to vomit.
"The planet. Her will. Hers... Jenov--" The former Doctor was cut off by a quick and severe cut of its windpipe as Dark Nation finally got the upper hand and found clearance for a killing blow, nearly severing the neck. Rufus watched as the doctor's body went slack and Dark trotted away, limping slightly but otherwise unhurt. With a sigh, he holstered his shotgun, and turned back toward his office. Someone was going to have to clean up this mess.
He turned to call Dark Nation in with him.
And was promptly slammed against the wall by a force that could only be described as inhumanly strong. His head whipped back and slammed against the surface, blacking out his vision for a split second as he wheezed for air and struggled against whatever was pinning him up. When his vision cleared he realized that perhaps he had been a bit too... cocky in thinking everything was in the clear. While the second guard was still unmoving, the first one he had unloaded those shells into was no worst for wear, other than a few sizeable holes in its torso and fresh blood dribbling down its mouth. Closer and in better lighting he could see that the face didn't even look human at all, but was severely distorted, the eyes clouded and rolled back.
There was also the smell. The sick smell of rot and stale blood.
The scent of death.
And just when Rufus thought he was going to be sick then and there he noticed that one particular growth on the side of this thing's face wasn't a growth at all but... an ear sliding slowly down its cheek. He could feel the bile rising up his throat, his stomach turning, when the creature growled and moved its hold a little, drawing fingers around his neck in a strangle-hold.
"Take you. Take you. She comes for you. Nextnextnextnext..."
It continually repeated the endless loop of words, no longer making sense as it squeezed Rufus' neck, leaving him writhing, trying desperately to claw the arms away but to no avail.
Dark Nation leapt forward toward it but was immediately thrown back against the wall with a whimper as one of the creature's extra arms slapped her away as if she was nothing.
She lay unmoving.
Pressed back and upward more, thumbs against his windpipe, he could hear himself struggling for air, the world feeling strangely light and something digging into his back, painfully. Through the haze of oxygen deprivation he somehow remembered the holster he had just bought, the Outsider fully loaded and strapped by his spine. Reaching blindly and fumbling slightly he grabbed a hold of the small weapon and brought it up, aiming toward the creature's ugly inhuman face.
He could feel blood spray against his clothing, but at that moment something so trivial mattered very little. Pitching backward the former soldier had let go of its target.
Unceremoniously falling to the floor, Rufus lay gasping for air, coughing in rhythm to the pounding in his head. After a moment to catch his bearings he looked toward the soldier, now unmoving as liquid oozed from the back of his head.
Remove the head or destroy the brain... like a fucking zombie movie. He wheezed and coughed, hearing a distinct ringing from his pocket and grabbing the cellular phone from within, the number reading blurrily as the security command center.
"Rufus Shinra," he growled out, wincing at just how horridly distorted his voice now sounded, his windpipe feeling tortured and raw.
"We are checking the perimeter, sir. Our guards have taken down two... you're not going to believe it but they appear to be zombies... We somehow lost three of them in the building. I am attempting to access your elevator, however it is seemingly jammed on your floor, sir."
Pulling his body stiffly to his feet he stepped forward and over the unconscious body of his panther to find a severed arm in the elevator's doorway. The door was clearly unable to close and thus unable travel down to the lobby. Biting back nausea he kicked the limb into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor.
"I've fixed the problem. Send up a cleaning crew. It seems I have done your job, so I'll be in my office now. Take care of the mess and don't bother me."
Ending the connection, he bent over Dark Nation, making sure she was alive before going back into his office, pulling her body in after him and chucking his soiled jacket across the room, followed by his guns. He slammed the door shut, locking it forcefully and running both hands through his hair, his hands shaking fiercely. He needed to calm down, but he had no cigarettes and he was not in the mood for alcohol. Sliding to the floor, he stared at the blood staining his pants and glazed on his arms. He felt frustrated and stupid and unsure who to contact. He surely didn't want to worry Tifa at such an hour. Strife had offered to help but everything had already been taken care of. He would discuss the matter or... whatever these things were when he saw him in a few days.
Fingers barely able to dial the number correctly, he dialed straight to voicemail the one person he had trusted the most with his life. There was an old offer he had begrudgingly agreed to take. Now it seemed that circumstances had changed a little...
"Tseng." He kept his voice low, attempting to mask how warped it sounded in his head. "I am taking the rest of the week off. When I get back from my trip with Lockheart I think you and I will need to have a few training sessions. You'll know why when you come into work tomorrow."
After chucking the phone onto his futon he entered his bathroom and shut the door behind him. Staring at his pale features in the mirror, red marks circling his throat that would soon turn purple and blood spotting his shirt and skin, he was glad for the in-office shower and the fact that he stocked extra clothes in the room as well. Glad that he would soon be clean.
Glad that he would soon be far, far away from this office.
Notes: Surprise! Ain't Jenova...... yeah.
Hopefully this isn't CRAP. I was all looking forward to crazy action, but then realized I SUCK at it. Oh boy... Also, I was originally going to get a Turk in on this to rescue him but... man... Rufus needs to take care of himself sometimes. *Pets the President* He's only somewhat useless and clearly watches bad zombie flicks as well as television on trashy Gaia celebrities. ...I go back to making sense now.
MUCH of the security forces are kind of... yeah. Eaten I guess would be the word? I believe Rian!muse is up to something and this point might help her character a little bit. I'm sure this will have some more nice repercussions. I'm too brain dead right now to think about them.
Rufus' vacation should be up next week, backdated of course. This all takes place... yesterday? Not too far back.
Hehe... zombies.
Eleven PM on a Wednesday night and unsurprisingly, Rufus Shinra was still in his office -- his still pink, but otherwise clean office. Still considering whether or not to make his precious Tifa Lockheart repaint the space. He had employed the help of a dozen cleaning personnel in vacuuming and re-vacuuming all sorts of pink and red items from his carpeting, scraping glued on candy hearts from his walls, and steam cleaning the pinkish hue that his futon seemed to have gained from what appeared to be two pounds of rose petals. He was sure they would be needing some sort of cash bonus for all that work but that was beside the point. It had to be done as he had to be in that office and he wasn’t about to work crunching through candies and flower petals. And while he wanted nothing more than to keep away after that little pink and red stunt, was needed his office. Especially after being put out of commission for the better part of a week. When Monday rolled around he had combed his office for the better part of the day, finding a nice stash of camera equipment hidden here and there. That taken care of, it was back to the never-ending grind of work.
Hunched over a stack of progress reports and business proposals. Rufus stifled a yawn, spreading the paperwork out on his desk, halfway wishing he could take a quick nap on the surface. Wake up in a few hours and continue checking over what the status was on the hull and engines of the rocket. But he knew that wouldn't be the best idea at that moment. He had made a promise. One that he intended to keep no matter what. The date was circled several times over in bright red on the calendar on his desk. Gold Saucer with Tifa. He had to get as much done as possible within the next day to be wholly in the clear on work. Most of all he had to go through everything the engineers had sent him thus far concerning the rocket and make plans concerning the trip to Nibelheim, both of which would take some careful attention as neither rocketry nor science were his strongest fields.
"Head. Hurts," he grumbled to himself as he placed his forehead against the table, noticing a small candy heart apparently overlooked in all the cleaning frenzy. Smile the red text stated and he couldn't help but roll his eyes and cradle his head in his folded arms. Screw that. An hour or two wouldn't kill anyone...
He awoke no more than half an hour later, jolting to his feet with such speed that the swivel chair had crashed to its side, awakening the sleeping panther from her spot several feet away. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, it took him a moment to realize the horrid piercing shriek he was hearing was not a product of his overactive imagination, but his desk phone. Grumbling, he grabbed the device and shouldered it, "What?"
"There has been a breach in outer security, sir. We are in the process of taking care of it."
Rufus pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He had used up his last remaining drops of patience in his internal reserve. "That is truly remarkable. Imagine that. Listen..." He pulled the chair back onto its wheels and plopped back on it, feet onto the desk. "How about you do your job and I do mine and I'll trust that you aren't quite as insipid as you seem to be. Do we have a deal?" Rubbing the last bit of sleep from his eyes, he waited for a response, only to be met by heavy breathing. "Do we--"
"Holy... holy shit." The officer's voice was barely above a whisper, so faint Rufus could barely hear it before he heard a slamming noise and the connection went dead.
He had a sneaking suspicion that said moronic officer was most likely dead as well.
But now wasn't the time to think about that. If his guards were in danger, then the perimeter might not be secure and he had to be prepared. As fast as he was able, Rufus grabbed and holstered the Outsider where it lay hidden by the small of his back, then quickly checked the slots on his shotgun, pleased to find them glistening and ready for action. Coat on and Dark Nation at his side, he opened his door and moved forward to the elevator.
He pressed the button and waited, shotgun in hand as the elevator rose steadily from the bottom floor.
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5...
No one is here... it shouldn't be all the way down there...
He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck bristle a little as he steadied his hold on the weapon and watched the numbers continue to climb. After a moment's hesitation, he moved to the side a little, pressed closer against the wall in case there really was someone in that elevator and he wasn't being paranoid. Dark Nation moved as well, putting her body in between Rufus and the elevator.
He held his breath...
DING!
...And waited.
All was silent but the shuffling of feet. Rufus tensed even more than he thought possible and held the gun steady, readying himself to shoot if necessary.
"President... Rufus. We have returned."
The voice was scratchy and old, yet clearly familiar to the blond. Heaving a sigh of relief, Rufus lessened his tight hold on the Supershot and dropped it to his side. "Dr. Wells. I was beginning to worry that you had skipped out on the mission." He took a step forward but Dark Nation growled and pressed her body closer to him, blocking his way, a deadly, feral look in her yellow eyes.
"Returned... Mission... Newww misssion."
"--What?"
"Her... mission. For the planet. Her will."
Rufus took an unsteady step backward, inwardly cursing himself for giving into fear. But there was something so horribly off... He could feel how wrong things were and that smell... that rotten odor. It took him a moment to realize entirely what it was. And that was precisely when he saw Dr. Wells.
Or what once was one of Shinra's finer scientists.
Rufus couldn't help but take another step back, nor could he help the tiny gasp of terror that hitched in his throat. What he saw seemed to be taken almost directly from one of his nightmares. This old man, although a nuisance, was a decent, hard working employee of his company and was now in front of him... lurching forward with a look that could only be described as madness on his features -- eyes rolled back and mouth slackened. And he appeared to be drenched in sticky crimson, trailing blood on the carpeting. But what got to the President most of all were the splotches of darkness visible even underneath that hue of red.
"Jenovaaa is queeeen. Jenova comes for you..."
Geostigma.
"Oh... God." He couldn't move. Not even while watching the crazed man move forward, arms halfway outstretched. Not even when he heard the shuffling of larger individuals. Nor when Dr. Wells sprung forward only to thankfully be thrown backwards by Dark Nation. But that only occupied the one man.
There were still two more...
They were in a similar state to the doctor, outwardly, covered in blood and slime and what appeared to possibly be chunks of... bone? Underneath all of that he could tell that these were two of the soldiers sent with the doctors. And they too were marked with Geostigma. Obviously, however, they weren't in the same deliberating pain that he himself had been and they appeared to be more severely infected than Rufus had.
"Alone. Alonealonealone."
The first one seemed to be jabbering endlessly, stepping forward one foot after another in Rufus' direction.
"Next. You're next. She comes for you. Next. Next."
The second guard bent forward predator like and what was at first not apparent soon became clear as day. Slightly below the man's shoulder blades were long growths. Four of them.
Two extra pairs of arms.
The man charged.
Rufus wasn't entirely sure how he managed to act, grabbing his shotgun in and firing several shots into the man. No -- creature. It was a split second decision that probably saved his life, leaving the former guard lying on the ground, dark blood oozing from fatal wounds in its chest and stomach. He turned, panting and wide eyed to the other guard and gave it the same treatment, wincing as blood, followed by brain matter splattered against the walls when he hit an artery, the final shot seeming to travel from under its jaw line out the back of its head.
It fell to the ground, extra limbs twitching a moment and then growing still. Rufus felt distinctly like he was going to vomit.
"The planet. Her will. Hers... Jenov--" The former Doctor was cut off by a quick and severe cut of its windpipe as Dark Nation finally got the upper hand and found clearance for a killing blow, nearly severing the neck. Rufus watched as the doctor's body went slack and Dark trotted away, limping slightly but otherwise unhurt. With a sigh, he holstered his shotgun, and turned back toward his office. Someone was going to have to clean up this mess.
He turned to call Dark Nation in with him.
And was promptly slammed against the wall by a force that could only be described as inhumanly strong. His head whipped back and slammed against the surface, blacking out his vision for a split second as he wheezed for air and struggled against whatever was pinning him up. When his vision cleared he realized that perhaps he had been a bit too... cocky in thinking everything was in the clear. While the second guard was still unmoving, the first one he had unloaded those shells into was no worst for wear, other than a few sizeable holes in its torso and fresh blood dribbling down its mouth. Closer and in better lighting he could see that the face didn't even look human at all, but was severely distorted, the eyes clouded and rolled back.
There was also the smell. The sick smell of rot and stale blood.
The scent of death.
And just when Rufus thought he was going to be sick then and there he noticed that one particular growth on the side of this thing's face wasn't a growth at all but... an ear sliding slowly down its cheek. He could feel the bile rising up his throat, his stomach turning, when the creature growled and moved its hold a little, drawing fingers around his neck in a strangle-hold.
"Take you. Take you. She comes for you. Nextnextnextnext..."
It continually repeated the endless loop of words, no longer making sense as it squeezed Rufus' neck, leaving him writhing, trying desperately to claw the arms away but to no avail.
Dark Nation leapt forward toward it but was immediately thrown back against the wall with a whimper as one of the creature's extra arms slapped her away as if she was nothing.
She lay unmoving.
Pressed back and upward more, thumbs against his windpipe, he could hear himself struggling for air, the world feeling strangely light and something digging into his back, painfully. Through the haze of oxygen deprivation he somehow remembered the holster he had just bought, the Outsider fully loaded and strapped by his spine. Reaching blindly and fumbling slightly he grabbed a hold of the small weapon and brought it up, aiming toward the creature's ugly inhuman face.
He could feel blood spray against his clothing, but at that moment something so trivial mattered very little. Pitching backward the former soldier had let go of its target.
Unceremoniously falling to the floor, Rufus lay gasping for air, coughing in rhythm to the pounding in his head. After a moment to catch his bearings he looked toward the soldier, now unmoving as liquid oozed from the back of his head.
Remove the head or destroy the brain... like a fucking zombie movie. He wheezed and coughed, hearing a distinct ringing from his pocket and grabbing the cellular phone from within, the number reading blurrily as the security command center.
"Rufus Shinra," he growled out, wincing at just how horridly distorted his voice now sounded, his windpipe feeling tortured and raw.
"We are checking the perimeter, sir. Our guards have taken down two... you're not going to believe it but they appear to be zombies... We somehow lost three of them in the building. I am attempting to access your elevator, however it is seemingly jammed on your floor, sir."
Pulling his body stiffly to his feet he stepped forward and over the unconscious body of his panther to find a severed arm in the elevator's doorway. The door was clearly unable to close and thus unable travel down to the lobby. Biting back nausea he kicked the limb into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor.
"I've fixed the problem. Send up a cleaning crew. It seems I have done your job, so I'll be in my office now. Take care of the mess and don't bother me."
Ending the connection, he bent over Dark Nation, making sure she was alive before going back into his office, pulling her body in after him and chucking his soiled jacket across the room, followed by his guns. He slammed the door shut, locking it forcefully and running both hands through his hair, his hands shaking fiercely. He needed to calm down, but he had no cigarettes and he was not in the mood for alcohol. Sliding to the floor, he stared at the blood staining his pants and glazed on his arms. He felt frustrated and stupid and unsure who to contact. He surely didn't want to worry Tifa at such an hour. Strife had offered to help but everything had already been taken care of. He would discuss the matter or... whatever these things were when he saw him in a few days.
Fingers barely able to dial the number correctly, he dialed straight to voicemail the one person he had trusted the most with his life. There was an old offer he had begrudgingly agreed to take. Now it seemed that circumstances had changed a little...
"Tseng." He kept his voice low, attempting to mask how warped it sounded in his head. "I am taking the rest of the week off. When I get back from my trip with Lockheart I think you and I will need to have a few training sessions. You'll know why when you come into work tomorrow."
After chucking the phone onto his futon he entered his bathroom and shut the door behind him. Staring at his pale features in the mirror, red marks circling his throat that would soon turn purple and blood spotting his shirt and skin, he was glad for the in-office shower and the fact that he stocked extra clothes in the room as well. Glad that he would soon be clean.
Glad that he would soon be far, far away from this office.
Notes: Surprise! Ain't Jenova...... yeah.
Hopefully this isn't CRAP. I was all looking forward to crazy action, but then realized I SUCK at it. Oh boy... Also, I was originally going to get a Turk in on this to rescue him but... man... Rufus needs to take care of himself sometimes. *Pets the President* He's only somewhat useless and clearly watches bad zombie flicks as well as television on trashy Gaia celebrities. ...I go back to making sense now.
MUCH of the security forces are kind of... yeah. Eaten I guess would be the word? I believe Rian!muse is up to something and this point might help her character a little bit. I'm sure this will have some more nice repercussions. I'm too brain dead right now to think about them.
Rufus' vacation should be up next week, backdated of course. This all takes place... yesterday? Not too far back.
Hehe... zombies.