[Well. Now this is an unexpected text to receive, isn't it? The cynical part of him can't help but think, so much for wanting nothing to do with me, and yet there's another side still that's too cognizant of an opportunity to squander this one when it presents itself. There's evidently something going on that he's not aware of — AVALANCHE has categorically been far more hostile to his overtures than they ought to be, even given old animosities. There's more here that he's not aware of; maybe this is one way to find out some of what's going on under the surface.]
It is, with a caveat. If you're coming to my penthouse, you should know that Darkstar is here. If that's a concern for you, then we'll need to meet somewhere else.
No. She's well-trained and won't attack without an order. However, I know you and your friends have had prior negative experiences with her, so I want to be candid about her presence.
This is her home, for the time being. I'm not going to exile her from it, even to accommodate a guest. I hope that's not a problem.
it's not a problem. it's not much different than having had negative experiences with you too.
[ and yet that isn't stopping her from risking herself in his space, alone at that. but tifa's plenty stubborn, even in throwing herself into situations that may be over her head, the same way she'd slipped into don corneo's place with the intention of going about it on her own. the difference is, cloud isn't here (anymore) to jump in and save her this time, and somehow she doesn't want to bring aerith or barret into this either. this feels like something she needs to figure out for herself. ]
just direct me to where i'd find it and tell me when the best time would be to stop by.
[ and sooner than later might prove to be better since it means that she won't be tempted to find some excuse to back out of this. already, tifa's finding herself wondering if she's stepping into what may prove to be a bad idea, but she simply takes a break as she prepares to dress herself for this meeting. a part of her really doesn't want to dress too nice for it, but she ends up in a stylish red sweater and short black pencil skirt, conscious to keep the newer jagged scar that stretches between her breasts diagonally towards her collar hidden to avoid sparking any kind of conversation around it, lest it entice his curiosity.
heading to the elevator in the hope that he's granted her that accessible permission to reach his floor, she takes it up, taking one more deep steady breath as she approaches his door and knocks. ]
[Most people have probably never seen Rufus in something other than his iconic white coat; perhaps it comes as some surprise, then, when he answers the door considerably more dressed down than he usually tends to appear, in breezy white linen trousers and a black collared shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled to the elbow, the collar and first button undone and a folded-up pair of aviator sunglasses clipped through to hang from the lowest point of the V they make. Darkstar is, as promised, looming at his side, more beast than dog — and yet laced through her usual chain collar is a length of crocheted yarn threaded with bells and tied off in a ribbon bow, clearly handmade and very much not what one might expect of the resident killbeast.
It's almost offensive how effortless he looks, and how well he blends in with his surroundings behind the door: framed by walls of nearly-white lit with fixtures that cast a yellowy glow and a stunning marble floor inlaid with gold, sleek and polished in an Art Deco style. The Queen floor treats its guests like royalty, and this suite is no exception: it's a veritable palace beyond, dripping in grandeur and luxury.]
Miss Lockhart.
[He motions subtly with two fingers on the hand that isn't holding the door; Darkstar, recognizing the command, sits obediently and without hesitation.]
[ when he opens the door, tifa's reminded of a question he'd ask her during the game that she'd nearly completely forgotten about in light of their other heavier topics: am i your type? in the moment, it'd seemed quite ridiculous and practically offensive considering the state of their relationship, but standing here now, looking at him in a more casual attire outside of his traditional white coat, with the effortless way his blond hair falls over part of his face with the rest of it eased back β he is handsome, and certainly in the kind of way in which, were it not for their history, this very well could have been some kind of date she'd been looking forward to.
instead, her shoulders remain tense, fingers threaded together in front of her, as her eyes draw onto the dog-beast that had been warned to be at his side, her nerves sharp until her gaze falls upon the knit add-on of the collar, gentler in its appearance than she would have expected. ]
Mister President.
[ she gives a casual nod of her head as she keeps her back straight, stepping in slowly into the suite, already a bit unnerved by the decor that reminds her just how much she doesn't belong here, while simultaneously recognizing how much he does. rather than focus on it, however, she turns, gesturing with her head to darkstar. ]
Didn't expect that to be in your tastes. [ referring to the handmade accessory around her collar, of course. ] Crocheting isn't your side hobby, is it?
[He huffs a soft laugh, evidently not expecting the title — but it tracks, what else would she call him? It's not as though they're on casual speaking terms, much less friendly ones — and closes the door behind her once she's inside. Darkstar, true to form, remains unmoving and quiet, though she does track Tifa carefully with her glowing red eyes as she makes her way in.]
No, not at all. I had some things commissioned when she arrived; a few of my acquaintances here have a passion for craftwork, and it gave me an excuse to furnish them with materials.
[He pauses, a little reflective.]
I suppose I don't come off as the type to keep pets, do I. But I've had her a long time, and missed her when she wasn't around. It's nice to have her with me again.
[ even if she did refer to him by name, it almost feels too familiar, just as the way he refers to her seems to set some kind of proper boundary, as if the politeness of it is meant to veil some kind of smugness β though she imagines that's entirely due to her own preconceptions of him, all of which have been left questioned in the past few days in light of their recent conversations.
this, too, is just another addition to the ways she's being brought to seeing him in a different kind of light. ]
I guess I just assumed she was just some kind of guard dog to you. I didn't expect her to be ... well, a pet like this. [ not so much strict security as it is a possible friend he keeps around. ] But pets are nice to have around. Makes things less lonely. I used to have a cat growing up β Fluffy β it'd probably brighten everything right up if she were around now. So ... I get it.
[ her lips quirk into a bit of a smile at the memory before she remembers where she is, who she's with, as she then presses those lips together to feel that awkwardness seep through her again, arms holding to hold her elbows. she looks at darkstar again, less dog and more something else entirely, and yet seeming strangely domesticated with that customized collar, leaving her plenty curious. ]
I ... don't expect she can be pet, can she? [ more specifically by her, all things considered. ]
That was the original intention, believe me. But I'm sure you can imagine I didn't have many...friends, growing up. And she's always been good company.
[There's a touch of irony in the way he says that; whether his lack of friends is from his winning personality or his lofty position is anyone's interpretation, of course. But either way, it's true; D's always been the one thing he's known cared for him unconditionally. People could be fickle in their attentions and their motives. She never is.
But Tifa's request actually gets him to raise his eyebrows, more surprised than anything else. He wouldn't have expected her to be so...willing to take a chance, particularly not on a beast he knows she's seen in combat. But he'd be lying if he tried to pretend like it doesn't work a thread of odd warmth into the otherwise cool situation; he is, after all, a dog person.]
...Do you want to? She'll behave. D, come here.
[So he says, without hesitation, and lowers his hands in a loosely cupped position — and, recognizing the command, Darkstar trots right over and places her muzzle in them, ears smoothed back with contentment, though she still never takes her eyes off Tifa.]
[ i don't have a choice whether or not to be lonely. though she'd only read the words from him, she could practically hear them in his voice now, and while she isn't keen towards wanting to feel any kind of pity towards him, all things considered, she understands that need for console, the way she sought it from fluffy after losing her mother.
maybe that's why she even surprises herself when she asks the question, half expecting the answer to be a no regardless. but she's always had a weakness for animals, thanks to fluffy, and even if she tends to be more cat person than dog, it's difficult to feel some kind of softness in the direction of the creature, with the lighthearted bow around her neck. ]
Um, yeah, I mean β only if it's okay.
[ she feels a bit strange now that she's asked it, but she watches rufus gesture for darkstar, her eyes meeting the dog's that in turn watches her. and with that simple gesture, she really does seem like a pet like any other, gentle against her owner's hand, despite gentle never being a word she'd associate with rufus. and yet, in that moment, it seems almost ... ordinary. she doesn't even notice a bit of tension ease from her shoulders.
carefully, she takes a few steps closer, slowly easing her out her own hand, not yet reaching but simply offering it forward. ]
Hi. [ she says to darkstar, her voice light as her body leans down a touch. ]
It's fine. Don't get startled by her tentacle — most people don't expect that.
[Which is to say, when assessing a dog-shaped creature, people tend to account for ears, muzzle, tail, and feet — and might miss the thick, muscular appendage that extends from the base of her neck, and which at that very moment is twisting up to coil loosely around Tifa's wrist.
What's curious, though, is that Darkstar seems to need no additional reassurance to allow Tifa to draw closer; there's no particular agitation in her stance, nor any seeming inclination to bite. The way she's watching her seems more out of interest than vigilance or suspicion; as she does with all the new people her master entertains, she draws her cues from him, and he's already given her all the information she needs to stand down and accept the attention.
Very much not like a typical dog. Rufus wasn't exaggerating when he mentioned she was well-trained.]
Tseng hates it when she gets up on the furniture. She's spoiled, I suppose.
[He's not really sure where that comment comes from, idle and amused. Just something to fill the silence, maybe.]
Oh β [ and tifa seems to be counted amongst those people who don't expect the tentacle, eyes widening a bit when the tentacle encircles her wrist, watching carefully for a moment to study its movements as she keeps her own body still.
but as she observes, she does seem to gather darkstar's relaxed posture, surprisingly unthreatening in a way that really is drastically different from the creature that seemed more monster than anything at rufus' side. yet now, all tifa can see is a faithful pet, comfortable in the space of someone she trusts, even if that someone happens to be rufus shinra.
unexpectedly, it relaxes tifa too. ]
Well, look at her. With such good behavior, she deserves to be. [ with her visual attention directed away from rufus for the moment, she doesn't even notice the change in her own voice, casual and light in its tone, as she chuckles softly, slowly letting her hand reach out the rest of the way to finally slide against darkstar's muzzle, fingers stroking with a gentle touch there and along the top of her head. ]
[It's odd, he supposes. After all the deep-seated frustration and vitriol of their prior conversations — some of it completely deserved, he's come to reflect — Tifa sounds completely unlike what he would've expected from her on a visit like this. That little yelp of surprise strikes him curiously, too; it nags at him, like it's a sound he's heard before, though he can't immediately place how or where.
Strange. But any noise of exclamation might sound like any other, he supposes. It's probably nothing.]
That's one of the benefits of this rank; she's got plenty of room to move around. She always comes to see who's at the door, however. I'm sure that's not surprising.
[He scratches fondly under her chin, and at last Darkstar closes her eyes, evidently willing to release her focus long enough to bask in the attention of two sets of hands petting at her.]
I expect when I dismiss her, she'll follow us as far as the bar, then go onto the private beach instead. If you were worried about her looming while we have our drink — speaking of, shall we?
[ it's not at all what tifa expected either, since she imagined she'd have had all her defenses up from the moment she stepped into his suite. yet, leave it up to the opportunity to pet a domesticated animal to lower down her guard, as the welcoming of pets from darkstar's willingness to enjoy not just one but two offering hands is enough to bring about a bit of fondness as tifa looks to the animal with a smile.
when rufus speaks up with the reminder of her original intentions in coming here, tifa's hand slows, a flushing warmth creeping up over her cheeks as she realizes her own distraction, imagining the oddity of it from his perspective. ]
Right, yeah. [ with a final nuzzling stroke to darkstar's head, tifa withdraws her hand, straightening up as she finally brings her attention back to rufus, feeling a bashfulness creep over her face as she tries to revert back to an intended focused confidence. ] She's free to go where she wants, so I don't really mind. But, yeah, um, lead the way.
[At first pass, it might seem as though that command is intended to have Darkstar remove her tentacle from Tifa's wrist, but it quickly becomes apparent that's not it at all; she promptly gets up to her feet and gives herself a good shake, making her chain collar and its bells jingle faintly as she's given leave to relax herself, and the way she disengages from Tifa and settles into position at Rufus's flank makes clear — that whole time she'd been under command, and from nothing more than that wordless two-finger gesture. Conspicuous, too, is that now her nails click softly against the marble floor as she trots, where previously she'd moved lithe and silent like a panther across the expanse.
After a moment to let Tifa fall in on his other side, Rufus leads the way confidently through his penthouse, past a room with a high arched ceiling and curved walls clearly designed to make favorable acoustics for the grand piano housed within, and further down past an atrium-style room that appears to be β of all bizarre things β a miniature personalized stretch of beach complete with mock-ocean. At last, he turns into the room opposite the beach down the same hallway: a comfortable sort of recreational leisure room done up in blues and tans instead of stark white, with a full bar, a billiard table, and a range of seating from chairs to loveseats to divans.
The bartop, by now, looks lightly lived-in; a bottle or two of Rufus's whiskey label of choice have been left out on the counter, as has an empty glass with a napkin underneath, but for the most part the selection on the shelves behind is robust and untouched, and he motions idly to it with one hand.]
[ as tifa watches the resulting movements at the command to release, she comes to realize just how in tune darkstar has been to every word and even every motion that rufus has signaled. even without the turks positioned at his side, security and defenses low, tifa doubts she could ever actually lay a finger on rufus if it every came down to some spontaneous instinct to attack him here in his suite; she'd probably have darkstar's teeth sunken into her neck in seconds if he managed to draw her attention for it.
probably lucky that none of her intentions in being here consist of any kind of stealth assassination attempt, as tifa stares after darkstar in momentary awe before she draws her attention back to following after rufus. it's with easy curiosity that her eyes peer around the space, lingering for longer than a beat on the grand piano in that expansive room. it isn't her first time in a queen's suite, having seen plenty of other complex designs, equally equipped with their own faux beaches, but she has a more difficult time imagining rufus living within it, absentmindedly trying to picture him leisurely relaxing within it.
it's when her eyes fall onto the bar that a subtle brightness slips onto her face again, already tilting her head to get a look at the various drinks available on the shelves before rufus even welcomes her to it.
looking at him briefly, as if to reaffirm his okay, she steps forward and rounds the counter to slip behind the bar, stepping into it with easy familiarity, the way she can almost find herself within seventh heaven's walls again. fingers trace over bottles to map out the selection, mindfully counting brands she recognizes from home and some that might be more unique to this place or other worlds.
spinning around, her lips purses into something almost like a light smirk as she brings her hands down on the counter. ] So, does that mean I get to make yours too?
I believe we've discussed that you're not here to poison me, so why not? Make whatever you think will appeal, and I'll judge you on whether or not you were right.
[As predicted, Darkstar does in fact peel off from them once they enter the lounge. At first, the sound of her nails clicking as she trots across the hall heralds her departure; shortly thereafter, the sound of splashing water can be distantly heard.
Rufus, meanwhile, goes directly to the pool table and starts to rack the balls with rapid precision, content to have something to do for himself while leaving Tifa the space to do as she likes with the bartop.]
Without sarcasm, Miss Lockhart: is it your intention that we talk to each other at some point, or are we keeping this visit to drinks and billiards only?
[ because if there's a skill that tifa feels herself fairly adept at, it's being able to get a good read on a person's drink preferences. plus, it helps to prevent the returning of the tension in her shoulders now that she's this far into rufus' suite, at least feeling herself in a space that at least suits the kind of air that she's used to, even if it lacks the rambunctious noise of a busy night within seventh heaven, filled with the locals piling in for their nightly drinks.
she's turned back to the bottles as rufus steps away, distracting herself with the labels once more to make calculations in her head about which ones to mix, when his question catches her attention and she stills, gaze unfocusing from the bottle in front of her, feeling the threat of tension working its way back into her muscles.
of course he'd ask eventually. she just hadn't been sure if she'd really be prepared for an answer. ]
To be honest ... I'm not really sure. [ she doesn't turn to look at him, busying herself instead with the shelves, finding it easier this way. ] It's not like I'm here to make any kind of extended deal or anything. And I won't lie, I still have my doubts about ... you. [ it's not spoken with any sort of malice, but the honesty is there, to him, just as it is a reminder to herself. ] But β well, you said before you wanted to give me an opportunity to get to know you, so ... so I'm here. And that's all I've really got right now.
Well. Unfortunately, I can't be anyone other than myself — though I could pretend my name was something different, I suppose.
[He arranges the balls neatly, then goes over and finds his preferred cue before lining up and making a clean break, more for the sake of hearing the balls clack against each other than anything else. He'll set them up again when Tifa is finished with her own work; for the time being he's more than content to amuse himself with something to do with his own hands, appraising angles and taking shots on the table to pass the time.]
Let's see. We've discussed my dog and your cat. You've told me about your father and — well, who doesn't know mine. [He says, dry as bone.] There's a girl here who's been trying to get me to "make friends" with people. Suddenly I wish I'd paid more attention to her ideas about small talk.
[ though she wishes he were someone different, she imagines that if he were, this really wouldnβt be as complicated as this. because who more than the very president of the company thatβs long since controlled all the tides of her life would be as difficult to endure as company? maybe itβs worse because rufus isnβt necessarily downright cruel in the way he presents himself. not that sheβs finding reasons to like him, really, but β¦ being around him hasnβt been so much of a punishment per se, either. itβs almost more infuriating because of it.
taking a few bottles in hand by their necks, she brings them to arrange over on the counter, lining them up to consider in her head how she intends to mix them. ]
Yeah, you could probably use some pointers.
[ then again, she wonders how someone who doesnβt know him would regard him, considering her own tension comes from so much thatβs been carried since before theyβd even met.
her fingers pause in opening up a bottle at the mention of her mother. sheβs quiet for a moment before answering with a small shake of her head. ]
No, not off-limits. Just β¦ well, she died when I was really young. Sheβd been sick and it hit me pretty hard when I lost her. [ sheβs caught staring at her hands for a moment before lifting her head and putting on a small smile. ] But she was the most beautiful person I ever knew, inside and out. She taught how to play piano before she passed, and so I kept that up to try to hold onto her.
[ she turns, distracting herself again by looking around for glasses. ]
You know, with all that the worldβs talked about you and your father, I never heard anything about your mother. What happened to her?
[He's had a long time to learn how to hide his tells, and it's not as though her question about his mother comes unexpected; it's the obvious thing to ask him in return, after he'd all but opened the door by asking after hers. But he's still quiet for a little too long anyway, regarding the lay of the billiard balls a little too long, thumb rubbing idly against the cue he holds between both hands as he seems to dwell over how he wants to answer that question under the guise of evaluating his next shot.]
Similar. A car accident when I was young.
[And yet the memory of the punishment room in the resort's basement comes back to him, the lamplit elevator, Mummy knows best, you still need your mother —
No. That was nothing but phantoms and tricks. He doesn't even remember the sound of her voice, so any sort of charade could easily pass.]
I'm told I look like her, from people who knew her firsthand. She was responsible for me until I was about eight, and then after she died, tutors took over.
[He pauses, then seems to shrug his mood off and glances up, smiling wryly.]
She had me learn piano, too. That must just be a habit of mothers.
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It is, with a caveat. If you're coming to my penthouse, you should know that Darkstar is here. If that's a concern for you, then we'll need to meet somewhere else.
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should i be concerned? it's a drink, not a fight. unless there are strict orders to bite anyone who gets within a few feet of you.
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This is her home, for the time being. I'm not going to exile her from it, even to accommodate a guest. I hope that's not a problem.
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[ and yet that isn't stopping her from risking herself in his space, alone at that. but tifa's plenty stubborn, even in throwing herself into situations that may be over her head, the same way she'd slipped into don corneo's place with the intention of going about it on her own. the difference is, cloud isn't here (anymore) to jump in and save her this time, and somehow she doesn't want to bring aerith or barret into this either. this feels like something she needs to figure out for herself. ]
just direct me to where i'd find it and tell me when the best time would be to stop by.
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[ and sooner than later might prove to be better since it means that she won't be tempted to find some excuse to back out of this. already, tifa's finding herself wondering if she's stepping into what may prove to be a bad idea, but she simply takes a break as she prepares to dress herself for this meeting. a part of her really doesn't want to dress too nice for it, but she ends up in a stylish red sweater and short black pencil skirt, conscious to keep the newer jagged scar that stretches between her breasts diagonally towards her collar hidden to avoid sparking any kind of conversation around it, lest it entice his curiosity.
heading to the elevator in the hope that he's granted her that accessible permission to reach his floor, she takes it up, taking one more deep steady breath as she approaches his door and knocks. ]
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It's almost offensive how effortless he looks, and how well he blends in with his surroundings behind the door: framed by walls of nearly-white lit with fixtures that cast a yellowy glow and a stunning marble floor inlaid with gold, sleek and polished in an Art Deco style. The Queen floor treats its guests like royalty, and this suite is no exception: it's a veritable palace beyond, dripping in grandeur and luxury.]
Miss Lockhart.
[He motions subtly with two fingers on the hand that isn't holding the door; Darkstar, recognizing the command, sits obediently and without hesitation.]
Come in. Make yourself at home.
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instead, her shoulders remain tense, fingers threaded together in front of her, as her eyes draw onto the dog-beast that had been warned to be at his side, her nerves sharp until her gaze falls upon the knit add-on of the collar, gentler in its appearance than she would have expected. ]
Mister President.
[ she gives a casual nod of her head as she keeps her back straight, stepping in slowly into the suite, already a bit unnerved by the decor that reminds her just how much she doesn't belong here, while simultaneously recognizing how much he does. rather than focus on it, however, she turns, gesturing with her head to darkstar. ]
Didn't expect that to be in your tastes. [ referring to the handmade accessory around her collar, of course. ] Crocheting isn't your side hobby, is it?
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No, not at all. I had some things commissioned when she arrived; a few of my acquaintances here have a passion for craftwork, and it gave me an excuse to furnish them with materials.
[He pauses, a little reflective.]
I suppose I don't come off as the type to keep pets, do I. But I've had her a long time, and missed her when she wasn't around. It's nice to have her with me again.
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this, too, is just another addition to the ways she's being brought to seeing him in a different kind of light. ]
I guess I just assumed she was just some kind of guard dog to you. I didn't expect her to be ... well, a pet like this. [ not so much strict security as it is a possible friend he keeps around. ] But pets are nice to have around. Makes things less lonely. I used to have a cat growing up β Fluffy β it'd probably brighten everything right up if she were around now. So ... I get it.
[ her lips quirk into a bit of a smile at the memory before she remembers where she is, who she's with, as she then presses those lips together to feel that awkwardness seep through her again, arms holding to hold her elbows. she looks at darkstar again, less dog and more something else entirely, and yet seeming strangely domesticated with that customized collar, leaving her plenty curious. ]
I ... don't expect she can be pet, can she? [ more specifically by her, all things considered. ]
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[There's a touch of irony in the way he says that; whether his lack of friends is from his winning personality or his lofty position is anyone's interpretation, of course. But either way, it's true; D's always been the one thing he's known cared for him unconditionally. People could be fickle in their attentions and their motives. She never is.
But Tifa's request actually gets him to raise his eyebrows, more surprised than anything else. He wouldn't have expected her to be so...willing to take a chance, particularly not on a beast he knows she's seen in combat. But he'd be lying if he tried to pretend like it doesn't work a thread of odd warmth into the otherwise cool situation; he is, after all, a dog person.]
...Do you want to? She'll behave. D, come here.
[So he says, without hesitation, and lowers his hands in a loosely cupped position — and, recognizing the command, Darkstar trots right over and places her muzzle in them, ears smoothed back with contentment, though she still never takes her eyes off Tifa.]
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maybe that's why she even surprises herself when she asks the question, half expecting the answer to be a no regardless. but she's always had a weakness for animals, thanks to fluffy, and even if she tends to be more cat person than dog, it's difficult to feel some kind of softness in the direction of the creature, with the lighthearted bow around her neck. ]
Um, yeah, I mean β only if it's okay.
[ she feels a bit strange now that she's asked it, but she watches rufus gesture for darkstar, her eyes meeting the dog's that in turn watches her. and with that simple gesture, she really does seem like a pet like any other, gentle against her owner's hand, despite gentle never being a word she'd associate with rufus. and yet, in that moment, it seems almost ... ordinary. she doesn't even notice a bit of tension ease from her shoulders.
carefully, she takes a few steps closer, slowly easing her out her own hand, not yet reaching but simply offering it forward. ]
Hi. [ she says to darkstar, her voice light as her body leans down a touch. ]
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[Which is to say, when assessing a dog-shaped creature, people tend to account for ears, muzzle, tail, and feet — and might miss the thick, muscular appendage that extends from the base of her neck, and which at that very moment is twisting up to coil loosely around Tifa's wrist.
What's curious, though, is that Darkstar seems to need no additional reassurance to allow Tifa to draw closer; there's no particular agitation in her stance, nor any seeming inclination to bite. The way she's watching her seems more out of interest than vigilance or suspicion; as she does with all the new people her master entertains, she draws her cues from him, and he's already given her all the information she needs to stand down and accept the attention.
Very much not like a typical dog. Rufus wasn't exaggerating when he mentioned she was well-trained.]
Tseng hates it when she gets up on the furniture. She's spoiled, I suppose.
[He's not really sure where that comment comes from, idle and amused. Just something to fill the silence, maybe.]
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but as she observes, she does seem to gather darkstar's relaxed posture, surprisingly unthreatening in a way that really is drastically different from the creature that seemed more monster than anything at rufus' side. yet now, all tifa can see is a faithful pet, comfortable in the space of someone she trusts, even if that someone happens to be rufus shinra.
unexpectedly, it relaxes tifa too. ]
Well, look at her. With such good behavior, she deserves to be. [ with her visual attention directed away from rufus for the moment, she doesn't even notice the change in her own voice, casual and light in its tone, as she chuckles softly, slowly letting her hand reach out the rest of the way to finally slide against darkstar's muzzle, fingers stroking with a gentle touch there and along the top of her head. ]
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Strange. But any noise of exclamation might sound like any other, he supposes. It's probably nothing.]
That's one of the benefits of this rank; she's got plenty of room to move around. She always comes to see who's at the door, however. I'm sure that's not surprising.
[He scratches fondly under her chin, and at last Darkstar closes her eyes, evidently willing to release her focus long enough to bask in the attention of two sets of hands petting at her.]
I expect when I dismiss her, she'll follow us as far as the bar, then go onto the private beach instead. If you were worried about her looming while we have our drink — speaking of, shall we?
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when rufus speaks up with the reminder of her original intentions in coming here, tifa's hand slows, a flushing warmth creeping up over her cheeks as she realizes her own distraction, imagining the oddity of it from his perspective. ]
Right, yeah. [ with a final nuzzling stroke to darkstar's head, tifa withdraws her hand, straightening up as she finally brings her attention back to rufus, feeling a bashfulness creep over her face as she tries to revert back to an intended focused confidence. ] She's free to go where she wants, so I don't really mind. But, yeah, um, lead the way.
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[At first pass, it might seem as though that command is intended to have Darkstar remove her tentacle from Tifa's wrist, but it quickly becomes apparent that's not it at all; she promptly gets up to her feet and gives herself a good shake, making her chain collar and its bells jingle faintly as she's given leave to relax herself, and the way she disengages from Tifa and settles into position at Rufus's flank makes clear — that whole time she'd been under command, and from nothing more than that wordless two-finger gesture. Conspicuous, too, is that now her nails click softly against the marble floor as she trots, where previously she'd moved lithe and silent like a panther across the expanse.
After a moment to let Tifa fall in on his other side, Rufus leads the way confidently through his penthouse, past a room with a high arched ceiling and curved walls clearly designed to make favorable acoustics for the grand piano housed within, and further down past an atrium-style room that appears to be β of all bizarre things β a miniature personalized stretch of beach complete with mock-ocean. At last, he turns into the room opposite the beach down the same hallway: a comfortable sort of recreational leisure room done up in blues and tans instead of stark white, with a full bar, a billiard table, and a range of seating from chairs to loveseats to divans.
The bartop, by now, looks lightly lived-in; a bottle or two of Rufus's whiskey label of choice have been left out on the counter, as has an empty glass with a napkin underneath, but for the most part the selection on the shelves behind is robust and untouched, and he motions idly to it with one hand.]
Have at. I doubt you'll find it wanting.
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probably lucky that none of her intentions in being here consist of any kind of stealth assassination attempt, as tifa stares after darkstar in momentary awe before she draws her attention back to following after rufus. it's with easy curiosity that her eyes peer around the space, lingering for longer than a beat on the grand piano in that expansive room. it isn't her first time in a queen's suite, having seen plenty of other complex designs, equally equipped with their own faux beaches, but she has a more difficult time imagining rufus living within it, absentmindedly trying to picture him leisurely relaxing within it.
it's when her eyes fall onto the bar that a subtle brightness slips onto her face again, already tilting her head to get a look at the various drinks available on the shelves before rufus even welcomes her to it.
looking at him briefly, as if to reaffirm his okay, she steps forward and rounds the counter to slip behind the bar, stepping into it with easy familiarity, the way she can almost find herself within seventh heaven's walls again. fingers trace over bottles to map out the selection, mindfully counting brands she recognizes from home and some that might be more unique to this place or other worlds.
spinning around, her lips purses into something almost like a light smirk as she brings her hands down on the counter. ] So, does that mean I get to make yours too?
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[As predicted, Darkstar does in fact peel off from them once they enter the lounge. At first, the sound of her nails clicking as she trots across the hall heralds her departure; shortly thereafter, the sound of splashing water can be distantly heard.
Rufus, meanwhile, goes directly to the pool table and starts to rack the balls with rapid precision, content to have something to do for himself while leaving Tifa the space to do as she likes with the bartop.]
Without sarcasm, Miss Lockhart: is it your intention that we talk to each other at some point, or are we keeping this visit to drinks and billiards only?
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[ because if there's a skill that tifa feels herself fairly adept at, it's being able to get a good read on a person's drink preferences. plus, it helps to prevent the returning of the tension in her shoulders now that she's this far into rufus' suite, at least feeling herself in a space that at least suits the kind of air that she's used to, even if it lacks the rambunctious noise of a busy night within seventh heaven, filled with the locals piling in for their nightly drinks.
she's turned back to the bottles as rufus steps away, distracting herself with the labels once more to make calculations in her head about which ones to mix, when his question catches her attention and she stills, gaze unfocusing from the bottle in front of her, feeling the threat of tension working its way back into her muscles.
of course he'd ask eventually. she just hadn't been sure if she'd really be prepared for an answer. ]
To be honest ... I'm not really sure. [ she doesn't turn to look at him, busying herself instead with the shelves, finding it easier this way. ] It's not like I'm here to make any kind of extended deal or anything. And I won't lie, I still have my doubts about ... you. [ it's not spoken with any sort of malice, but the honesty is there, to him, just as it is a reminder to herself. ] But β well, you said before you wanted to give me an opportunity to get to know you, so ... so I'm here. And that's all I've really got right now.
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[He arranges the balls neatly, then goes over and finds his preferred cue before lining up and making a clean break, more for the sake of hearing the balls clack against each other than anything else. He'll set them up again when Tifa is finished with her own work; for the time being he's more than content to amuse himself with something to do with his own hands, appraising angles and taking shots on the table to pass the time.]
Let's see. We've discussed my dog and your cat. You've told me about your father and — well, who doesn't know mine. [He says, dry as bone.] There's a girl here who's been trying to get me to "make friends" with people. Suddenly I wish I'd paid more attention to her ideas about small talk.
[He pauses.]
You never mentioned your mother. Off-limits?
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taking a few bottles in hand by their necks, she brings them to arrange over on the counter, lining them up to consider in her head how she intends to mix them. ]
Yeah, you could probably use some pointers.
[ then again, she wonders how someone who doesnβt know him would regard him, considering her own tension comes from so much thatβs been carried since before theyβd even met.
her fingers pause in opening up a bottle at the mention of her mother. sheβs quiet for a moment before answering with a small shake of her head. ]
No, not off-limits. Just β¦ well, she died when I was really young. Sheβd been sick and it hit me pretty hard when I lost her. [ sheβs caught staring at her hands for a moment before lifting her head and putting on a small smile. ] But she was the most beautiful person I ever knew, inside and out. She taught how to play piano before she passed, and so I kept that up to try to hold onto her.
[ she turns, distracting herself again by looking around for glasses. ]
You know, with all that the worldβs talked about you and your father, I never heard anything about your mother. What happened to her?
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Similar. A car accident when I was young.
[And yet the memory of the punishment room in the resort's basement comes back to him, the lamplit elevator, Mummy knows best, you still need your mother —
No. That was nothing but phantoms and tricks. He doesn't even remember the sound of her voice, so any sort of charade could easily pass.]
I'm told I look like her, from people who knew her firsthand. She was responsible for me until I was about eight, and then after she died, tutors took over.
[He pauses, then seems to shrug his mood off and glances up, smiling wryly.]
She had me learn piano, too. That must just be a habit of mothers.