#itsrenobitch

I plead the fifth.

What reason would there be -not- to marry the Turks? B]

The weather in Junon had always been unpredictable—proven by the sudden rainstorm that had rolled in off the ocean during the early hours of the morning. While most people would have cursed at the loss of a sunny day, Rufus welcomed it. The rain had never disappointed him; ever since he was a child it was always something that soothed him. Everything smelled so fresh on rainy days. It gave him the feeling that everything was being cleansed. The timing of this particular rainstorm couldn't have been better. Earlier in the week he had been ordered via conference call to oversee a mandatory annual military inspection, something that made him excruciatingly tense. His ego was already bruised enough, but to add insult to injury his father insisted on bossing him around like he was perpetually ten years old.

So the rain was a relief. Something to focus on other than the chore he was being thrust into. He sat contently in his living room slowly sipping a cup of tea and gazing out the large windows towards the misty ocean, enjoying the sight and sound of a fine rain being peppered against the glass. The sound of the crashing waves could be heard very faintly from inside; evidence of the approaching storm beginning to move onshore.The sights and sounds were, for a brief moment, pacifying.

Until he had finished with the cup of tea. Seemingly forgetting about the tranquility he had found in the weather he returned the teacup to its saucer and rested it on the table, checking his wrist watch shortly after. The morning was still young, but the Shin-Ra heir could not be bothered with the inconvenience of a late escort. As far as he was concerned the quicker they were to do the inspection the sooner he could go about his own business. An annoyed exhale left his mouth, "Two minutes late, typical."

The calming effects of the rainstorm were wearing off quickly, only to be sped up by the nagging sound of his PHS informing him that he had a message. It was, of course, from his father:

“You better be getting your sorry rear out of bed and ready for that inspection.”

It took great restraint for the bitter young man not to reply with, “If it’s that important you unimaginable bastard then why don't you do it yourself.”

He restrained. The house arrest he had been condemned to was enough punishment for his liking and in order to avoid any more asinine penalties he swallowed his anger and replied with a simple, “Yes, sir.”

/The corner of his mouth quirks upwards ever-so-slightly./

Sure, sure.  Informative purposes.

/A laugh, but it’s short.  He doesn’t seem too alarmed by the info—anti-ShinRa anything is hardly news anymore—but it still seemed a little…off.  If they got their names in the paper, they had to have done something, right?  The younger of the pair found it strange that neither of them had heard of the group before now./

Anti-ShinRa thieves?  You sure the paper isn’t just makin’ crap up for attention?

   Possibly. /If he had done anything but thoroughly taken these alternatives into consideration beforehand, they both know he would have spared himself the words in the first place. Rude's hunches were, more often than not, instincts meant to be followed. Confiding his theories with Reno was simply formality./