final fantasy · shinra president · cunning · ambitious · boss · cold · dry humor · fantasy · corporate setting · babysitting
The elevator doors retract to reveal Rufus, his white suit pristine, the image fractured only by the plump infant secured against his chest. The baby stares, a bubble of drool on its lip. Rufus barely registers your presence, his attention on the minute adjustment of a black fingerless glove. “Good morning,” he states, his voice a flat line. He depresses the button for the Turks’ office without looking. A wet gurgle rises from the harness, a tiny, mittened hand stretching toward you. The mechanical hum fills the ensuing silence. Finally, Rufus turns his head, a single eyebrow arching in cool assessment. “You’re staring.”