Video - Knuckledown

[looking_sharp]

[Enjoy your video of a man in a suit, the angle chosen for the video making sure that more light shines off of his sunglasses than anything else, making his eyes even harder to see.]

Looking for a Porter city gym. Best one you know. Need somewhere to practice and train. Or a training center for MMA.

[Life was harder without the training facilities his division maintained.]

Also. Somewhere that serves Wutain food.

[Will that even make sense to anyone? He doesn't care. His questions have been delivered. The message will either be answered or not. So he just cuts the recording there and posts it online. This is really a weird communication method people have set up.]

Comments

[looking_sharp]

[Rude watches for a while, and then smiles. It's impressive, and he really likes it.]

Didn't know you were domestic, sir. Learn it to take care of hte boss?

[beenhad]

No. I'm afraid this particular skill set predates my involvement with the president.

[ Funny how easy it is to feel the sting of nostalgia in a place he's never been. It's the scent of fresh green onions and spinach and carrots, his reflection through the steam in the bottom of a wok. All these things were so easy to ignore back home. ]

[looking_sharp]

[Ah. Rude lets it slide. Talking about their homes before Shinra is... awkward. Rude doesn't like to muse on what drove him from Costa and to Junon where he'd been found by Veld. Going back home had never been comfortable, but he had done it for the company once or twice.

At least he wasn't seen as a traitor to his nation, though. He always wondered if Tseng might be.]

You should cook for the boss. He'd like it I think.

[beenhad]

I'm not sure I have a choice in the matter. This is not at all the contingency that life prepared him for.

[ Would that he could return them all to lives with maids and catering. Alas. He repurposes one of the bags that Rude brought with him, stacking two tubs of wontons within. This is placed on the table in front of Rude and then securely tied—no, that's not neat, he undoes and reties it again. ]

Freeze them when you get home. They'll keep forever.

[ As for him, he's plucking one of the books off the pile and finally, finally sitting, with the barest wrinkle in his nose as his aching back adjusts. ]

[looking_sharp]

[Rude's very concerned about the need for neatness here, Tseng. But he won't comment.]

Would you like privacy, sir?

[He's mostly done with his soup and could just clean the bowl and head out.]

[beenhad]

[ Presentation is everything, Rude. ]

Please, feel free to take your time. You were never very disruptive, were you?

[ Besides the fact that it feels the better kind of normal to be pouring over text while one of his Turks takes lunch. Or late dinner, whatever. What he wouldn't have given back in the day for a quiet, empty office; now it just seems like an integral missing piece. ]

[looking_sharp]

[Well, Rude isn't going to complain, especially since he's free to help himself to the other things that were made. So he takes off his gloves, stands and sheds his coat, and even rolls up his sleeves. A nice, relaxing evening meal then.]

Make a pile of which I should read, sir.

[beenhad]

[ Tseng's eyes dart, however briefly, at the sudden flash of tan skin. His gaze drops just as quickly to the neat little stack of books on the table, considering it like a puzzle as he reaches out to shuffle through each tome. ]

Please do not feel obligated to humor me. I'm well-aware that this is not particularly your—

[ His fingers graze upon one cover in particular, depicting a man lifting a bull upon his shoulders. He shuffles through a few pages, until he comes upon a depiction of two fighters locked in battle, one barring the other's arm as he thrusts his opponent on the ground. Tseng carefully slides the open book across the table. ]

Start with this one.

[looking_sharp]

Just because I fight hand to hand does not make me a brute.

[But Rude does reach across the table to pull the book closer.]

Research is important. I'll need a dictionary.

[He doesn't know that his phone has one.]

SORRY I LOST THIS TAG IN THE GREAT DELUGE

[beenhad]

There's more nuance to it than that. They built an entire civilization around these games. It's quite fascinating.

[ Tseng's book is formidably heavy. There's the smallest shiver that trembles in his shoulders when he cracks the spine; the sound hits him like a mournful refrain. He'd told Rufus that this job was a waste of his time, but it's hard to hide how pleasantly occupied he is with it here.

His voice is little more than a distracted murmur: ]

Try your phone. There's one on there.

[looking_sharp]

[Yeah, a civilization built around games doesn't seem likely, but he will read it.]

Really? Still more functionality than Shinra phones.

[beenhad]

[ Tseng gives him a glance over the horizon of his book. ]

We had those on our PDAs as well. No one ever told you...?

[ Well. He figures he has no one to blame for that but himself. ]

[looking_sharp]

[The look Rude gives Tseng is one that isn’t impressed. Tseng, how could you NOT TELL HIM?]

No one.