Too long for comments.

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Start location: Shinra building, 69th floor, lift lobby.
Time: One day one evening several days after the party. A friday.
Characters: Rufus, Rafe, Zack, other Turks if they can work their way in, and/or Avalanche if they want to turn up later.
Note: Fastforwarding in time here, but it shouldn't affect any of the other party threads, so just consider this a pre-emptive out-of-sequence post or something and go on with whatever you were doing? ^_^

Summary: Rufus, having found the perfect guide for a Wall Market tour in the form of Rafe, has decided to put that particular plan into action. He ropes in Zack.

( And really, if daddy Shinra goes there all the time... )

Why am I starting a new thread? I don't know, it seemed like the thing to do.

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[OOC: Started up a new log because the other thread disappeared off my f-list]

The need for air was getting overwhelming.

Rufus staggered away from Scarlet's very drunken attempts to get one arm around his shoulders and another down his pants, banged his leg painfully against the table, split punch down his jacket, and figured that a strategic retreat was called for. Perhaps he would even return to his room for reinforcements. No one, however drunk, messed with one large panther, black, fully equiped with enough jaw strength to crush bone. And tentacles. Two tentacles.

Abandoning the now empty glass, he staggered towards the doors of the ballroom, wondering why the world seemed to insist on listing slightly to the right. Surely it wasn't because the room had been built on a slope. He'd have been... notified if it was. He'd have to take the Head of Building Administration to task very seriously about allowed sinkage to this extent.

No wait.

He paused just outside the doors, shaking his head violently as his senses caught up rather belatedly with him. How many glasses of punch had he drunk? It had been one. Then another when he'd talked to Reeve's secretary. And another when Heidegger had started telling his... jokes. And... oh gods.

He groaned as he dimly recalled several more in between that one and the one he had split. Well, maybe he simply wouldn't be back. After all, it wasn't as if anyone would miss him--

--the world listed again, and sharply, and he stumbled, lost his balance and staggered into the wall. Except that there was a Turk in the way.

[Tags: doublegunshot]

Ah.

The generic-holiday parties.

Veld hated them, especially when President Shinra decided to actually, um, show up like he was, you know, supposed to, which made an already-irritating event a headache of kicked-in-the-head-by-a-chocobo proportions. Thankfully, he hadn't, not for several years. Veld wouldn't mind playing hooky himself truth be told, but he didn't have a choice. Had to keep Reno from spiking the punch, Tseng from drinking anything that was stronger then he thought and imitating a fictional animal from slum-children's stories in looks, with an unavoidable bright red nose, Certain Turks from sneaking off into broom closets and aside, Scarlet's impromptu drunken pole-dances were kind of priceless, in a way. And they'd banned Chocobos that were not cooked and garnished from the premises this year. Now that, that had been set-in-stone proof the Turks were indefinitely superior to SOLDIER. But not something he wanted a repeat performance of.

... Who'd hung the mistletoe?

Reno?

Veld decided he didn't care, swishing the disturbingly girly drink with an umbrella melting in his hand about not really wanting to drink it and eying Tseng. Yep. Nose already reddening, like always. Fluttery eye-lids, despite trying to look rapt and at attention. At least he fell asleep when he was drunk.

... oh, gods of Wutai, not Heidegger.

... and was that Rufus? Wasn't he... underage?

[OOC note: The other thread is going to closed shortly after Zack mun finds time to write a response.]

( Locked to Rufus and Reeve, for the time being )

((OOC: *cough* For Reno, Rude, Tseng and New Turks. Who, if they don't have players, will not be autoed. Angela (Samantha) has gone AWOL and as of thus, will be missing the meeting unless she pops in at some time.))

A blonde girl with big blue eyes, looking innocent and pristine, had obviously never killed anyone, a tall women who despite her long grey-brown hair emitted a strong aura of masculinity, her hands gloved, her stance reminding Veld of Rude, a man with the strangest hair Veld had ever seen--braided in rows on one side, fluffy and free on the other. A tall and bearded man, a snarly expression on his face, a boy who looked like Reno without the mullet and... someone was missing. The princess-like girl with the snotty expression. She must have gone out for lunch even though she wasn't supposed to. Veld mentally head-desked. Did he have to choke a bitch after all?

What a crew.

Ugh. He'd just quoted Rufus. The lack of hot coffee was going to his head.

Tseng shifted behind him.

"Well," said Veld, knotting his hands and leaning forward somewhat, "What have you to say?"

Uneasy silence. Much eye shifting and collar pulling.

Some days, Veld liked his job. This was one of them. Sadistic bastard.

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Veld sighed.

Which wasn't much of an indicator of what he meant, to the untrained Veld observer-- Veld's unemotional sighing could mean anything from "Rufus is back from a stressful buisness trip and in a homacidial mood and just took it out on me... again..." to "No things worth eating left in the cafeteria... again..." -- or anything in between. In this instance, however, it meant "We're desperately understaffed and need to do something about that."

Tseng however was a trained Veld observer* and turned his head towards the older man, chewing on the end of a pen.

"As fine as Reno and Rude are..."

Veld nodded.

They had an understanding. Few words were needed, and frankly, Veld liked it best that way.

"Candidates?" Inquired Veld. A single word, perhaps confusing for some, but what he meant was, "Have you gotten all the files for the possible new Turks in order yet?"

"Hmm..." Tseng, understanding of course, shuffled through a stack of folders. "Yes, sir. All in order."

"And you've interviewed them, I am assuming..."

"Of course."

"Hm."

"Er... Shall I send them to you for your examination?"

"Ah... Yes, that might be a good idea."

"Well, then." He got up, pushing his chair back and pausing to drain his cup of coffee, pulling a face at its bitterness, still not used to the flavour, "I'll fetch them now."

*(Shh, I know it sounds just a little wrong.)
[(OOC:
REQUIRED POSTERS: All, at least once, except Zack and Sephiroth *unless you want to*
MAY AUTO: Tseng may auto Veld, as it is practically required. Reno and Rude may auto each other, in moderation; all others must ask permission.
POST ORDER: None
REQUIRED POST LENGTH: None
NOTES: Remember to use your portrait icons~

Just a little something to get our feet wet and work out snarls early. Your character should wonder up to Veld's office, if you're a Nameless Turk, poke around in his own business if he's unrelated to the events (Sephiroth, Reeve, etc), bitch about the quality of the busts of the new Turks if you're Reno or Rude... Anyway, it's not strictly linear, so don't worry about it.)]