Post by Cloud on Feb 19, 2012 2:06:10 GMT -5
Junon was alive, with a massive overhall of the city’s infrastructure taking place, the population swelled from all the opportunities for work. Nobody knew the real reason behind Shinra’s project, except for what the papers called a long needed upgrade. Even those within the company itself were kept in the dark, whatever the administration was doing; it was going at great lengths to keep it to itself. Aside from the mystery of it all, there didn’t seem to be many who were bothered by it. Times were uncertain, work was scarce and people were looking for some form of guidance to cling to. Despite the mistakes of the past, Shinra was making good on its promise to help restore the planet, from the substantial cleanup in Midgar to generous donations to the WRO, it seemed to be taking the right step forward. People took notice, and even though they had their reservations, in this new world what choice did they have but look up to an old enemy as their shepherd once again.
No one knew this any better than perhaps Rufus Shinra himself. As the company’s popularity slowly started to rise back up, it had to take on numbers of personnel not seen since before the fall of Midgar. The reinstatement of the SOLDIER program, a bit limited, meant that scientists had to come in, large public works projects required engineers and architects, even doctors and scholars had their place. If Shinra wanted to remain a driving force in this new world, it had to be on top of things, no matter where or what they were. Sure, the company would keep to its name sake and provide energy, but like before it’d be more than just that. Rufus was not a man with small visions; he was a man with big ideas who had the means to see them though in some capacity. It seemed like nothing was to stand in his way.
Nothing perhaps but a small mark that had been forcefully placed upon his forearm. A mark that still continued to be a mystery, yet its origin was well known to the blonde. It had only been two weeks since Ark had banded Rufus, yet the inquisitive man had no opportunity since to question its purpose. Aside from the obvious, he had no clue what the thing meant for him in the long run. It caused a level of irritation often found on the highest order. Nevertheless he knew very well that his problem was that of his own, Ark didn’t just hand out brands every day, did he? At least not that Rufus knew of. He had more pressing and urgent matters to attend to that had been manifesting in the weeks before his encounter with the fal’Cie. Today was his monthly inspection of the progress on Junon, soon to be biweekly, and in five days time there is to be a meeting of world leaders to discuss a peaceful solution to their ever present problem. Nations forcefully thrown together with conflicting ideologies and customs did not bode well. With overpopulation now being a real risk, food, energy and security was Shinra’s primary concern and most likely that of others as well. Problem was that people like Shinra were never taught very well how to share their toys with others.
Rufus stepped off of the helicopter as the rotor whirled away above his head, the resulting wind madly throwing about his formerly well kept hair. Quickly he was ushered away from the noisy aircraft by a couple of Turks and led into the nearby administrative building. Itself a newly constructed wonder of Junon, the Shinra Electric Power Company Administrative Office Zero-Zero-One was a grand gesture to the architectural ability of their people. Situated just off of the airfield, it’s reflective glass façade, mighty entryway and technological advancements made it the perfect place to hold the first meeting of world leaders. World leaders, Rufus scoffed at the idea but had to cooperate nonetheless. Survival of his world depended on it. He gave his customary greeting to the employees in the lobby before making his way to the ‘executive elevators.’ They ran the entire span of the city, from top to bottom, and were off limits to everyone but those who had the proper clearance. Even though he had just arrived, Rufus wanted to get the inspection done and out of the way before he went about making preparations for the coming week. It took several minutes for the elevator to reach the designated floor, no doubt much to the relief of his secretary who appeared to be getting claustrophobic.
Level two of Junon was still under heavy renovation, work being expected to continue for another eight months before being completed. Junon after all was a military instillation; it was more than just infrastructure being upgraded. Defense systems were all being put into place, the number one priority in Rufus’ mind. As a construction supervisor and engineer approached the President, he looked up and around at his surroundings. Just a short number of years ago was the cannon removed and sent to Midgar. Now its replacement was being constructed in its place, the weapon’s skeleton erected out from the city’s ocean view side. For now it only used conventional artillery as its main source of firepower, but with a rail gun prototype in the works, it was only a matter of time before the system would be fully operational.
“Good Afternoon, Sir.” The engineer named Clayton Fields had greeted Rufus with an outstretched hand and welcome smile. A family man and self proclaimed workaholic, Clayton had been working on the Junon project for over a year and a half, having moved his family to the city for a sense of safety.
Rufus didn’t bother too much with the pleasantries; he needed to go straight to the point. With a quick shake of the hand, Rufus greeted Clayton and took the report on the technicalities of the operation. Two months prior they had a worker lose his life by pure negligence, last thing the company needed was more bad press. Because of this Rufus had been a pain in their side, constantly checking up on every aspect of their work. It wasn’t like he was to be blamed for such stringent regulations; it was his name on the line. It was never, “Nondescript worker dies today in freak accident, supervisor under investigation,” it was always “Nondescript worker dies today in accident, Shinra under investigation.” The company didn’t have the same control over the news like it used to; for now.
Satisfied with what the report had to offer, he handed it off to his secretary and went about his visual inspection. Rufus found the entire process of construction fascinating, and often enjoyed seeing the various stages of projects going on around him, from the laying of a foundation to the instillation of the various cables, wires and pipes that gave a building life. It was a pretty amazing thing when given some thought.
It wasn’t until the streetlamps started to bask the streets with their soft glow did Rufus decide to call it a night. For the men and women heading the construction effort, their inspection was a success; he was rather impressed with the progress made since his last visit. If they kept up their current pace, the work on Junon itself would be finished ahead of schedule. All that’d be left would be the task of cleaning up the slums.
Feeling rather satisfied with this revelation, Rufus bid Clayton farewell and started to make the journey back towards the executive elevator. Deep in conversation with his secretary and a nearby Turk, he misjudged a step and fell forward, his sleeve catching on a sharp ledge and tearing it from his jacket with a loud seam ripping tear.
“Sir! Are you all right!?” A Turk exclaimed as he rushed over to help Rufus up off the ground.
“Yes, I’ll be fine. Just a little stumble, that’s all.” With the assistance of the Turk, Rufus got back up onto his feet and brushed himself off, pausing for a moment to look at the blood slowly oozing its way through the scrapes on his palms. It had been so long since he had seen his own blood, it felt strange to him, almost…. foreign in some way. “Come, we have things to attend to. Kathryn…”
“Yes, Sir?”
“How are you with stitches?”
“….”
“Ah, I thought so...”
Rufus chuckled to himself and walked around Kathryn (his secretary) to carefully make his way up the stairs before him, that was until he was suddenly stopped by an observation she found startling.
“S… sir! On your arm! What is that… marking?!”
Rufus nonchalantly looked at his bare arm, the l’cie band completely slipping his mind. “It is nothing for you to worry yourself over. Just a little souvenir from an acquaintance. Now please, we have work that has to be done…”
No one knew this any better than perhaps Rufus Shinra himself. As the company’s popularity slowly started to rise back up, it had to take on numbers of personnel not seen since before the fall of Midgar. The reinstatement of the SOLDIER program, a bit limited, meant that scientists had to come in, large public works projects required engineers and architects, even doctors and scholars had their place. If Shinra wanted to remain a driving force in this new world, it had to be on top of things, no matter where or what they were. Sure, the company would keep to its name sake and provide energy, but like before it’d be more than just that. Rufus was not a man with small visions; he was a man with big ideas who had the means to see them though in some capacity. It seemed like nothing was to stand in his way.
Nothing perhaps but a small mark that had been forcefully placed upon his forearm. A mark that still continued to be a mystery, yet its origin was well known to the blonde. It had only been two weeks since Ark had banded Rufus, yet the inquisitive man had no opportunity since to question its purpose. Aside from the obvious, he had no clue what the thing meant for him in the long run. It caused a level of irritation often found on the highest order. Nevertheless he knew very well that his problem was that of his own, Ark didn’t just hand out brands every day, did he? At least not that Rufus knew of. He had more pressing and urgent matters to attend to that had been manifesting in the weeks before his encounter with the fal’Cie. Today was his monthly inspection of the progress on Junon, soon to be biweekly, and in five days time there is to be a meeting of world leaders to discuss a peaceful solution to their ever present problem. Nations forcefully thrown together with conflicting ideologies and customs did not bode well. With overpopulation now being a real risk, food, energy and security was Shinra’s primary concern and most likely that of others as well. Problem was that people like Shinra were never taught very well how to share their toys with others.
Rufus stepped off of the helicopter as the rotor whirled away above his head, the resulting wind madly throwing about his formerly well kept hair. Quickly he was ushered away from the noisy aircraft by a couple of Turks and led into the nearby administrative building. Itself a newly constructed wonder of Junon, the Shinra Electric Power Company Administrative Office Zero-Zero-One was a grand gesture to the architectural ability of their people. Situated just off of the airfield, it’s reflective glass façade, mighty entryway and technological advancements made it the perfect place to hold the first meeting of world leaders. World leaders, Rufus scoffed at the idea but had to cooperate nonetheless. Survival of his world depended on it. He gave his customary greeting to the employees in the lobby before making his way to the ‘executive elevators.’ They ran the entire span of the city, from top to bottom, and were off limits to everyone but those who had the proper clearance. Even though he had just arrived, Rufus wanted to get the inspection done and out of the way before he went about making preparations for the coming week. It took several minutes for the elevator to reach the designated floor, no doubt much to the relief of his secretary who appeared to be getting claustrophobic.
Level two of Junon was still under heavy renovation, work being expected to continue for another eight months before being completed. Junon after all was a military instillation; it was more than just infrastructure being upgraded. Defense systems were all being put into place, the number one priority in Rufus’ mind. As a construction supervisor and engineer approached the President, he looked up and around at his surroundings. Just a short number of years ago was the cannon removed and sent to Midgar. Now its replacement was being constructed in its place, the weapon’s skeleton erected out from the city’s ocean view side. For now it only used conventional artillery as its main source of firepower, but with a rail gun prototype in the works, it was only a matter of time before the system would be fully operational.
“Good Afternoon, Sir.” The engineer named Clayton Fields had greeted Rufus with an outstretched hand and welcome smile. A family man and self proclaimed workaholic, Clayton had been working on the Junon project for over a year and a half, having moved his family to the city for a sense of safety.
Rufus didn’t bother too much with the pleasantries; he needed to go straight to the point. With a quick shake of the hand, Rufus greeted Clayton and took the report on the technicalities of the operation. Two months prior they had a worker lose his life by pure negligence, last thing the company needed was more bad press. Because of this Rufus had been a pain in their side, constantly checking up on every aspect of their work. It wasn’t like he was to be blamed for such stringent regulations; it was his name on the line. It was never, “Nondescript worker dies today in freak accident, supervisor under investigation,” it was always “Nondescript worker dies today in accident, Shinra under investigation.” The company didn’t have the same control over the news like it used to; for now.
Satisfied with what the report had to offer, he handed it off to his secretary and went about his visual inspection. Rufus found the entire process of construction fascinating, and often enjoyed seeing the various stages of projects going on around him, from the laying of a foundation to the instillation of the various cables, wires and pipes that gave a building life. It was a pretty amazing thing when given some thought.
It wasn’t until the streetlamps started to bask the streets with their soft glow did Rufus decide to call it a night. For the men and women heading the construction effort, their inspection was a success; he was rather impressed with the progress made since his last visit. If they kept up their current pace, the work on Junon itself would be finished ahead of schedule. All that’d be left would be the task of cleaning up the slums.
Feeling rather satisfied with this revelation, Rufus bid Clayton farewell and started to make the journey back towards the executive elevator. Deep in conversation with his secretary and a nearby Turk, he misjudged a step and fell forward, his sleeve catching on a sharp ledge and tearing it from his jacket with a loud seam ripping tear.
“Sir! Are you all right!?” A Turk exclaimed as he rushed over to help Rufus up off the ground.
“Yes, I’ll be fine. Just a little stumble, that’s all.” With the assistance of the Turk, Rufus got back up onto his feet and brushed himself off, pausing for a moment to look at the blood slowly oozing its way through the scrapes on his palms. It had been so long since he had seen his own blood, it felt strange to him, almost…. foreign in some way. “Come, we have things to attend to. Kathryn…”
“Yes, Sir?”
“How are you with stitches?”
“….”
“Ah, I thought so...”
Rufus chuckled to himself and walked around Kathryn (his secretary) to carefully make his way up the stairs before him, that was until he was suddenly stopped by an observation she found startling.
“S… sir! On your arm! What is that… marking?!”
Rufus nonchalantly looked at his bare arm, the l’cie band completely slipping his mind. “It is nothing for you to worry yourself over. Just a little souvenir from an acquaintance. Now please, we have work that has to be done…”