Β Β Β Β Β Β Tonight marks a new beginning for SHINRA!
Β Β Β Β Independent Rufus Shinra from Final Fantasy VII +Β Compilation Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Est. 2016 β’ Carrd β’ TwitterΒ β’ Interest Checker

Kiana Khansmith
taylor price
Stranger Things
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blake kathryn
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JVL
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

@theartofmadeline
todays bird
Show & Tell
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β£ Chile in a Photography β£

Discoholic πͺ©
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
KIROKAZE
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Andulka
DEAR READER
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@ivory-paragon
Β Β Β Β Β Β Tonight marks a new beginning for SHINRA!
Β Β Β Β Independent Rufus Shinra from Final Fantasy VII +Β Compilation Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Est. 2016 β’ Carrd β’ TwitterΒ β’ Interest Checker

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When Cloud reunites with meets Rufus in Advent Children.
I still have 1 more silly idea I would like to draw before moving to your requests. I had such a weird dream last night and I must share it with the world π€£
Thank you for all the warm welcome. I really need it at the moment β€
I just wanna vent a bit so please skip if you don't want me to waste your precious time.
π + The Phantom of the Opera. Oh my Goodness.
Halloween Drawing Post (no longer accepting) ||Β @ivory-paragon
Rufus would have this at his penthouse. The Bronze Peacock Gate

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βThinking of running off, are we?β
Itβs perhaps a little uncanny how silently Tseng can move and appear within a space without alerting its occupants. Especially when he knows every click and creak of the lock he now secures at his back.
Similar to the previous morning, it seems Tsengβs casual livery is tailored trousers and shirts; charcoal and white today, respectively. And that immaculate updo, with the absence of makeup or contacts. He also appears to have slept. Always a bonus.
He moves further inside.
βYou wonβt get far, I donβt think, now half the underplate is whispering about you.β He pauses, close enough to discern an idea of what Rufusβs wound is doing. He'll speak of the Turks soon enough. βLet me look at you, at least. Then you can stretch your legs.β
It doesnβt escape Tsengβs notice that Rufus could use a wash; his ordeals clung to his skin, his hair, the faint odour of grime and soot mingled with antiseptic, as well as a feverish heat. So long as his wound was clean, thatβs the main thing.
Tseng begins unbuttoning his cuffs.
βTwo nights in my private chambers,β he rumbles, lips curling to a smile, βYour bill will be sky-high.β
There's a spike that splinters up his spine. Either he still is waking up from a sleep he somehow managed to attain, or there are still some lingering drugs in his system to not allow him to take in his environment. The flight or fight senses slowly wash away; he eases his shoulders and shakes his head. "I didn't think I'd get very far if I tried," he winced.
A hand lifted to the words of money. "If I am to have a bounty on my head.." Fingers nimbly carded through his hair, feeling all the dirt and sweat that had absorbed around the roots. "At the very least you'll get your share for keeping this all... discreet." He pronounces the 't' with added emphasis, neck muscles flexing.
He eases back on the bed, fingers gathering at the bandage again as he peels it away. It was tender, still very much angry. He's convinced he'll heal quickly -- though there's a voice in the back of his head that says otherwise.
Tseng's words mull around his mind before he perks up. "Did the Turks come?" If all the underbelly of the plate was speaking of his name, there's no doubt that the suits had made their appearance and ruffled the network all up.
Acrylic stands for you, my friend, that SE is releasing. @soldier-lodbrok
Acrylic stands for you, my friend, that SE is releasing. @soldier-lodbrok
Why does Angeal look so young in these EC chapters.. then looks like he aged 20 years in CC?
He was 25 years old in CC I think, acted like a 40 year old (Nearly MY AGE) I know how I was acting at 25, I know how I LOOKED at 25.
da fawk.
Lucrecia pity-fawked and Seph was the result.
Truth. :B
** Vince the father, fyi.

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There's an underwater resort in Junon that was initially used for military personnel with marine underwater study. It was later transformed into a near-like museum with highlights of marine life for educational purposes. There's a restaurant and even lodgings that have been implemented in. A long tunnel from Junon connects it (access via vehicles) to the main attraction areas-- since Junon proved to have pollution around the city itself, the extensive branching outwards had to be installed for more transparent waters and wildlife. Access via tunnel can be granted or via ships lowering passengers into the resort.
Research is still conducted here. However, it is located in another area of the resort.
Somewhere off the kitchen abrupted the the sounds of gags, something being dumped, and then water running could be heard with the mutterings of 'GROSS!'. To the left of Rufus was Reno who suddenly curled his lips in a devious grin.
Rufus mandates fresh ingredients in his pantry, fridge, and other kitchen areas within the underground that they are static to. It was Reno who brought the glass container out from his car, having kept it out long enough for it to curdle. He knew Cloud sought out calcium for his mako growth development, among a myriad of pills that Rufus makes sure he takes daily.
"How's that chunky lemon milk?" A sneer registers across his face, his hand resting on his chin as he gives Cloud a scathing stare from the position on the table. "Normally, I hear gagging 'n shit when you've locked yourself away inside the Prez's bedroom. I don't think I heard the word gross yet though..."
Reno is hoping one day Cloud does.
Rufus took a private show to a whole other level. Poles were installed in his estates.. plural. It surprised Cloud at first, having stared dumbfounded and at a loss of words for a few seconds before accepting it ; he was good at what he did and clearly it's what Rufus liked. One such evening though Cloud was using it as a tool to work out rather than perform .. though it went without saying Rufus enjoyed the 'show', even if Cloud was fitted shorts for a good grip and a sleeveless top rather than his signature Bee glam. Hanging upside down, his grip with his legs and feet alone hold him firmly in place. His arms are crossed, clearly showing off.
"I think I should give you some private lessons."
The President on a pole ..
Entertainment in this fashion was not in the repertoire of what he imagined his time would be spent. If he were determined to ignore the Hive and all its seedy offerings (aside from one bee), he would just have to establish his many homes to accommodate a drone. Drones didn't need much, and eventually, in the real world of the bee, they were kicked out to survive on their own once they served their purpose.
Rufus had taken one in for his own, nurturing it and creating an environment they were used to. Pole dancing had always been thought of sexual in nature, it was far from that here. Cloud showcased the muscle that was shaped and built from the endurance of these exercises. It fascinated him that the body could learn from these moves and how effortlessly Cloud wrapped his body (and mind) around the length of the object.
The bottle of wine is returned to the small table to the side of him, one elbow resting on the leather chair while his pointer finger settled on his temple, lips brushing against his fingers upon observing. In his other hand, the wine glass is steadied from his fingers along the glass rim top.Β Β
"I think I should give you some private lessons."
Cloud's voice swam through the fog of distraction. While Rufus had always been light on his feet, he couldn't imagine his long frame of a body twisting around this cylinder object. A smile broke out while he hooked his leg over his knee, he folded his fingers around the stem of the glass. "I don't think so," he spoke into the glass basin, echoing his voice louder within the room. "I wouldn't want to show you up," words are used after the sound of a lip-smacking, tasting the wine instead of the visions in his head that he pushed aside.
It is all Tseng can do not to visibly recoil from the man next to him while he rids his lungs of a hefty coating of tar. Instead, Tseng takes a breath through his nose and closes his eyes a moment; heβd pay for this one, Naja would make sure of it. However, some risks are worth taking.
He rises, to allow Reno his freedom before the man takes it. Tseng canβt imagine heβs above crawling over his body to get out. Again, he holds Rudeβs attention and dutifully bends at the waist, hair falling free of his shoulders.
βI wish you better luck on your next stop.β
Tseng manages to make Renoβs callous shove look elegant and thereβs something hard in the way he watches their backs. Itβs gone in an instant, however, and he turns, gliding through the crowd.
Itβs well into the night by the time he returns to his chambers. Rarely can he mingle on the floor without being challenged or solicited for casual company and where most nights he would relish his duty with enthusiasm, Tseng finds himself quite drained. Lack of sleep, food and stress will do that to a person, he supposes. He doesnβt return to Rufus straight away, finding himself in desperate need of a shower and a moment alone to just think and unpack the shit-storm heβs found himself in. Hopefully, the Turks wouldnβt call again and he could get on with the task of hiding Shinraβs most wanted until heβs healed enough to leave.
When he does let himself into his own room, quietly in case Rufus is resting, Tseng is the picture of composure in that robe of his. Too bad his eyes canβt quite hide just how fucked heβs actually feeling.
βAre you awake?β
Silence. A trickle of ice slithers through his veins but Tseng rationalises the little prince is most likely sleeping. Still, assuming would be poor medical practice. He locks the door with barely a click and moves to his bedside and finds Rufusβs chest is, thankfully, quite animated. He sucks a steadying breath through his nose; he could use a drink. Tseng does take a moment first, to admire the beauty of this young heir while he canβt open his mouth and ruin the moment. He turns away with a soft huff; perhaps, so far, thatβs his favourite trait.
The Turk's endeavors turned out in vain, as predicted by Rude's thought process. He shares it with Reno, knowing that his lack of empathy would block him from realizations on some topics. The Turks are required to report back, and Rude feels a formulating migraine at the thought of repeating the lack of evidence. He'd throw in some strong points, as the seedy organizations are not out of the danger of the Turks so much still. There's a possibility something is being hidden in the catacombs of the estates. Secrets of all kinds emerged from these places; it only took a loose tongue and some gossip. There was very little chance of hiding Rufus's whereabouts, provided who exactly he was.
Rufus's body was trying to heal, and with it came the exhaustion that set him into a state of sleep upon Tseng's emergence into the room. He stirred very little, as if his subconscious prohibited him from shifting too much, even during his slumber. When morning came, he jerked awake, unaware of how long he had been sleeping and where he was. The furrow of his brow deepened as the shifting of his body was met with a soreness around his stomach region. Clarity now, he heaved a sigh.
So it wasn't a fever dream.
Shifting the covers back a bit, he felt the bandages underneath his fingertips, thumbing the edge of the bandage with the corner of his fingernail. A slow peel, he glanced down at the mending below; it seemed to be healing-- albeit still marred with an angry red. It was time to get up and around to ensure that if he did move, it would not reopen by any chance. He couldn't afford to stay here for longer than a day or two; the risk was too high with his father's leering gaze within all the plate-- topside and below.
Tentatively, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed so that the flat of his feet felt the ground below. Fingers hooked over the edge, he scrunched his shoulders to stretch the stiff muscles. Heavy with the remnants of sweat in his hair, strands of blond hung low over his brow; he'd need to clean up before long.
He hated feeling dirty.

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Celebrating some fall festival things around my town today then I'll be back to write some. Fall is always a busy time for me, be it work picking up or Halloweenie events every weekend.
mmmmmmmmm I love this time of year.
Cloud is watching Rufus tend to his weaponry. A double barrel shotgun of a luxurious design he'd never seen. He quickly decides it has been used.. he's too familiar with it for it to merely be a showcase and he can smell the gunpower. There's hesitation before the question passes his lips.
"Can you teach me to shoot?" // .bee
Cloud had been staring at him since the sleek barrel of the gun was placed on the table. Rufus used various tools, never ordering another to condition and clean his weapon of choice. It was a routine to be intimate with the instrument, to feel its power, to appreciate the decision it held when the trigger was pulled-- to end a life or spare it.
Bore cleaner, gun oil, a soft bore and copper brush were laid before him. He stood behind the desk with a cloth in hand, the barrel being dissembled and placed to the side. This was a routine, a ritual of dedication and discipline, a necessary part of the relationship between a shooter and his weapon.
"Can you teach me to shoot?"
Eyes flickered to the attentive Bee across from him, a micro smile surfacing as he picked up the bore brush and dipped it into the bore cleaner. He slipped the pole into the barrel. "I can," he keeps his eyes on Cloud as he exchanges for the cloth to shove down the barrel.
"What type of gun would you be interested in?" The type of weapon an individual carries often describes them. Cloud was in a profession that frequently led to death. Brush-ins with such situations were the norm. "I think a small handgun would suffice for you. It can be hid easily." Even ShinRa's Derringer gun proved to be effective for quick escapes against a threat.
Rufus's prized shotgun he showcased in pieces here highlighted an engraved butt of the gun, beautifully crafted in a custom design. He'd do the same for Cloud's.