Welp this picture was bound to happen sooner or later.
Anonymous asked: How do you intend to increase the security at the WRO and possibly in Cait Sith itself now that Shalua's sister is likely to be around more often? She can hack with her thoughts and she has no emotions. Don't you worry that she'll backslide?
Since Deepground there has been a radical overhaul of key security systems at the W.R.O. both in terms of structural alterations and an increasing assurance of secure operating systems. The events that occurred were a rather tragic wake up call to most of W.R.O. even for those who had worked within the construct of Shinra’s multi-layered security protocols. These issues have been assessed and responded to as a necessary priority.
As for Cait Sith, I alone have been involved in every single point of his architecture and subsequent development. I can state, therefore, with some confidence, that it is exceedingly unlikely that he will be compromised.
Shelke possesses a remarkable faculty, and one that cannot be underestimated in these times of informational technology. To say however that she has no emotions is a misonomer, for whilst she was a former Tsviet and has been subject to a regime both terrible and corrupt, she is also very much a human being possessive of sentience and all that entails.
As with all human beings or sentient forms on this Planet there is capacity for a ‘backslide’ as you refer to it. However there is also capacity for growth, for change and with her unique talents, a singular opportunity to do great good.
Shelke assisted us in our time of need and was instrumental to the current period of stability we all are experiencing. She has shown to me that she can be counted upon when needed.
Additionally, she has access to a new support system in the form of her sister, Shalua, in her friends and, yes, even from myself and the W.R.O. We can only do our best to ensure that this enough for Shelke to be able to live her life and function as a member of this society, just as you or I or anybody else.
I hope this answers your questions and allays any potential concerns or doubts you may have about the W.R.O. and our undertakings.
Anonymous asked: Mr. Tuesti? Is that Gaia equivalent of Google called MOOGLE? Inquiring minds want to know!
Yes, inquiring minds, it evidently is:
albedosoyna asked: Have you ever thought of making another robotic creation to surpass Cait Sith?
Hello again albedosoyna,
Cait Sith cannot be surpassed, at least not in my eyes. The first CS model was planned, designed and created very specifically with particular functionality and purpose in mind. I maintain it served its input specifications to the best of the limitations of the day.
Now, I won’t deny the old Mark #1 had plenty of scope for improvement. If you’ve followed our journey togther, you would already know that several changes have been made. I’m sure, for example, Nanaki got a little exasperated at being Mr. Moogle part two.
I take pride in the fact that the latest Cait Sith you all know epitomises the latest sophistication to our methods. He will always be improved upon. However, he cannot truly be surpassed. He is, essentially, my ultimate creation.
Now in terms of other robotics, I have been involved in a number of different projects that both complement and sit aside from Cait Sith.
You may or may not have been privy to some of my latest designs? I cannot go into much more detail in terms of their purpose and what use they will be to the WRO for security reasons, but needless to say my work has taken on many new forms; from suits to urban renewal and new tech, from chemical to defensive units.
I hope this has answered your question and that you have a good remainder of the day.
[[haha, I never made the connection between the Reeve suit and Iron Man until now. Bloody hell, this gets more and more obvious.]]
mixgoldenphoenix asked: You look so much like Robert Downey, Jr. to me, it's not even funny. Not that that's a bad thing. Just sayin'. May your success in the WRO go as well as Stark's success in his own business. -salute-
Hello there, mixgoldenphoenix.
I had my assistant, Eli, help me out with this one. Apparently a specific numbered wall had to be disassembled before an answer presented.
Though to reassure people out there on the WWN, it was not in any of the WRO designs and does not affect any developments in Edge, or indeed elsewhere.
All I can really say to the first statement is that certain comparisons can be made, I suppose-
-in that we are both male, of a certain age, brunette and can share similar grooming styles.
Though that is where any similarity ends. After all…
…whilst Mr. Downey Jnr is apparently a successful, charismatic actor.
I must add here, that despite differing career choices, Mr Downey Jnr, if you are reading this, I’m afraid I have to invoke intellectual property rights on my original weapon designs.
Now your second statement is far more interesting to me. I’m somewhat surprised I did not come across the character of Stark during my teenage years at college.
An Engineer who achieved status of genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist? What Engineering major wouldn’t want to read about that?
And whilst I am with you on wishing the WRO every success, from the looks of things, it was not all plain sailing for either Stark or Stark Enterprises.
However, from what I know from this brief perusal, opponents to the business bore more defeats so…
Thank you for your message.
Staff Addendum: I would also like to point out to you Eli that the sheer amount of data you hold on this man and the comic book character is approaching the sandwich level of stalkering. Do I have to call on Zeng again?
[[…If you want to, I like it when you speak to him :D
Also, I would like to point out to you, Reevey, that RDJ is widely thought of as being a big ol’ man-child…
Just sayin’ …
And these gifs aren’t of you?
Doctored: shouldn’t that have read
‘You’ve been asleep for almost 31 years, Vincent’ ?
No? Hm. Perhaps I do need to get help…
( “I should have waited until the RP finished but…meh. I love it.” )
[[This person has taken a drunken smutty smut smut log and turned it into something beautiful. *round of applause for Yada*
I love the relaxed content expressions AND ARE YOU ACTUALLY SMILING THERE VINNIE? :P]]
( “Smile? Who’s smiling?” >_> “…No. Nah-ah.” )
[[:3) *would argue but is starting to snore lightly*
Also I just realised then you’ve SWAPPED THEIR COLOURS. <3 <3]]
harryceramic asked: Hello Reeve, what was exactly your relationship with Shalua Rui?
Hello again, Irene.
I have made my thoughts on Shalua Rui known on a couple of prior occasions, but since you are asking for specifics… here they are:
My exact relationship with Shalua was that she was a highly competent member of the WRO who applied herself to a startling array of different functions, from scientist to soldier to confidant. This was in spite of everything she had been through and whilst she maintained her search for her sister. It is a singular person who can offer so much whilst never losing sight of their own reason to live.
Without Shalua the WRO could have looked very different and she was, undoubtedly, important to me. Truth be told, I believed that would be the case the first time I met her.
We were introduced by an old Professor from Junon. Both being former students he suggested that Shalua’s applications into bio-tech might assist with the development of Cait Sith, who had been a mere hobby of mine when we had last spoken. I was sceptical that such a brilliant scientist would take time out to meet on such a matter, and certain facts were confirmed by Shalua herself during the time we spent together.
She was a member of AVALANCHE back then and I was an employee of Shinra.
“So that’s the rudiments. I’ll just leave you two to discuss things further. I’m sure you’re dying to get the old man out of your hair, kukuku.” With a trademarked chuckle and an even more trademarked shuffle Professor Leith exited the square, peering up at the buildings as he went past mumbling things to himself.
This left Reeve stood in the Junon sea-breeze in front of Shalua, the resumes of their academic endeavours still being cogitated upon. Shalua Rui had been a leading mind in weapons, bio-augments and prostheses, taking over ideas and applying them before the Professors had managed to even start thinking out of the box. Reeve thought they might have learned from before, but that was academics for you. Lots of theories, little actual application.
He had been struck with an all too familiar feeling, one experienced before in the very same courtyard. Only this time he would not be making the same mistakes he had made with Her. “Very impressive, but I’m afraid you may have been misled… My interests, as you can clearly see, are not in weaponry.” Well, certainly not anymore.
“Yet you still came all this way to meet me.” Shalua raised an elegant eyebrow over the rim of her glasses. “Must not be too busy then, Director Reeve Tuesti of -Shinra-.”
Reeve smiled at the almost dismissive jibe, his curiosity had been peaked. “This is Junon Academy. It’s not altogether surprising where I work.” What was more surprising was that Shalua had not joined following graduation. And what was -most- interesting was the way she had practically spat out the Shinra name.
“If you are wondering, I didn’t graduate from the Academy. I was merely a student of Leith and Simons.” Shalua interrupted Reeve’s thoughts, snorting lightly with that slight dismissive slant once again, as if she had not just read his mind, “Well, I say student…”
“Let me guess, only needed them for their labs and ranges?” Reeve crossed his arms in front of him; papers tucked under one armpit and shook his head, “Simons in particular could never resist a pretty woman with a gun and the brains to improve it.”
His words brought a quicksilver smile to Shalua’s lips as she replied, “True. But Leith warned me about you too.” Reeve blinked, feeling somewhat emotionally betrayed by his one time supervisor as Shalua tacked on, apparently to rub salt in the wound, “I’m not worried. You‘re the least threatening man I‘ve come across. And that includes all these old codgers around here.”
The twitch of Reeve’s lips nearly betrayed his thoughts, “Have we quite finished emasculating me yet?” His humour rung through as he returned her jibe from earlier, “I‘m sure you are busy…” -Doing whatever it is you are doing- “How about we not make this a complete waste of time and get a bite to eat?”
Shalua briefly looked somewhat taken aback. Then her features hardened and became hungered with a look not necessarily for food, “Perhaps that view needs revising… I’m not finished with you, Director. First we make a stop off at a lab. I‘m sure you’ll know which one when we get there.”
They made their way down through the campus towards the docklands striated grey blocks. Reeve had already made one decision upon Shalua, it was clear she was none too enamoured with the Shinra Electric Company, so he followed and kept pace to her long strides watching as they walked. Her motivations became even more known when he realised what path they were walking. Just as he knew the elusive Turk HQ location in the Tower, so too did Reeve know where to find the suits when they were situated in Junon streets. Still, must keep up appearances, he was merely Director of Urban Development after all, “Where are we goi-“
A loud shout of “Halt!” drowned out Reeve’s question, as the next thing he knew he had been physically shoved back by Shalua into one of the narrow alleyways criss-crossing the militarised city. “Stay back. I’ll deal with this.” Reeve did as he was told, it was best he remained unseen; he had enough explaining to do to Veld as it was. Two grunt soldiers in Shinra blue were advancing on Shalua as he hissed at her from the side, “You don’t need to do this. I can get them to stop.” He could say she was in his charge or… something.
Shalua pulled a gun from a holster at her thigh –oh sweet Shiva– and cast a look over her shoulder, “Don’t worry, I promise you I won’t hurt them.” Reeve thought he heard her mutter an added ‘much’.
One, two shots rung out, Shalua was holding true to her words. She had a great aim, immobilizing both by a bullet to the kneecap. Reeve winced as he glanced around the corner. One of the grunts had pulled out a PHS and was calling for back up, as the other started shouting loudly, “She’s AVALANCHE. Get her!” before returning scatter gun fire. From the opposite direction another two soldiers arrived and Reeve swore when he saw one carrying a fire launcher, “Shit.” Slipping out from the side, he ran around behind the two backup, fingers tightening around the smooth yellow cone of a megaphone.
A cast of blind and they stumbled, one blast missing, one stream of fire still meeting its target. With a shriek Shalua fell to the ground, a stream of bullets coming from one fallen grunt directing its way through her shoulder. Reeve called for a cure, the green light settling over her body and looked around for a quick escape. The two blinded soldiers were firing randomly, the two other soldiers flailed with their own wounds upon the floor.
Another cast of blind to the two on the ground and Reeve darted past them, pulling Shalua up as quickly and carefully as he could. There was a truck further down the road he had seen and half dragging, half running he got them to the vehicle to quietly jack the door, “Get in.” Reeve ordered Shalua into the front cab, but she was holding her ground despite her injuries, looking blurrily at him, “Why did you save me?” she asked in a weakening voice. Gods, but she was a mess.
“We have no time to argue. Back-up is on its way and those four will soon be coming ‘round. I’d rather not be associated with terrorist activity against my employer, thank you. Get in the truck, Shalua.” Bundling her as best he could up and through the door, Reeve crawled over to the other seat, keeping them both low and out of sight. She groaned as he knocked against her injured shoulder to slam the door shut, “This is your fault… I- I could’ve shot them in the chest. Why did I promise you…?”
“Yeah, yeah, entirely my fault,” Reeve took the blame with a rare dose of sarcasm. Ripping out the bottom of the dashboard, fingers deftly sparked the engine into life and he sat up, pulling out of parked position slowly, inconspicuously, before continuing, “It’s because you’re a good woman.” The words surprised him even as he spoke them, but somewhere, instinctively, he felt them to be true. That was good enough for him.
Reeve called out another dose of cure magicks before dropping his ‘weapon’ to the seat and shrugging out of his jacket. Pulling it over Shalua, he gripped her shoulder tight with one hand, the other steering them from the docks. The engine was purring beneath him like a coeurl. He certainly liked the feel of this vehicle, “Keep down and put pressure, here.”
Shalua gave out a very unladylike grunt and glared at him. Her glasses had fallen askew which Reeve was beginning to find ridiculously distracting, so he focussed on the road out of Junon. “Where are we going?” She asked, to which Reeve hummed, “I know a place further up the coast.” North of Kalm. His home. He really should not be doing this. “You need to rest and those bullets need extracting.” The ones that had not passed clean through, that is. “Cures can only do so much.”
“Why… are you doing this, Director? I’m an AVALANCHE member… just as they said. ” Shalua sounded plaintively confused.
Reeve considered his response silently. He had heard of AVALANCHE of course, not to mention he had already decided that he did not need Shalua’s expertise. At least not -yet-, and certainly not with Cait Sith. Reeve’s creation needed to be just that - his creation - he felt it somehow. “I couldn’t just leave you there to die.” He smiled a little, “And you did say it was my fault.”
They had cleared Junon and the day was sunny, fresh, as the behemoth of a vehicle started to skim the coast. Reeve looked down at Shalua and challenged her gently, “Do I need to be worried? Was it your intention to kill little old me back there after giving you access?”
Shalua laughed, breathlessly, in response, “I don’t… hurt people unless they get in my way.” The same hungry, hardened look passed over her features before she looked up at Reeve, and there, the first spot of genuine humour he had seen alighted in her eyes, “And, you -are- the least threatening man I’ve met… ”
Over three days however, Shalua was forthright, blunt, in dealing with our conversations and I found myself telling her some things I had never before put into words. In return she told me about herself, about her reason to live and her reasons for joining AVALANCHE. She remained fiercely tight-lipped however about the rest of AVALANCHE and their activities, just as I had deflected anything to do with the Turks or Shinra, though it did not really surprise me to learn later that she had defected from the group. There was only one thing that drove her back then.
We had come to some sort of companionable stalemate.
Years passed, and I heard very occasional words about Shalua and even less from the woman herself. After Meteorfall I returned to Junon. She reinitiated contact with me there and became a founding member of the WRO. It was evident that Shalua had been through hell, but she had also learned new ways of applying her knowledge and skills. Most of her internal organs were now synthetic, she had lost one eye and an arm, the latter of which was now a biostatic prosthesis. Her talent was incredible, works of art. Her research, her weapons and her support became absolutely essential during our conflict with Deepground.
I only regretted that I tried to dissuade her from the search for her sister. After so long, with no prior knowledge of the Deepground project, I thought her diligence and tenacity was a hopeless direction for all her efforts and injuries. I was clearly wrong.
Selfishly I can only hope she forgave me before she gave her sacrifice to help us all, to help her sister survive.
[- Visibly sighing. -]
Vincent… why are you sighing? *completely forgotton to put on trousers today*
harryceramic asked: When Mr. Rufus ShinRa first came to you and asked about privately backing the WRO, what was your first reaction? I'm sure it came as a shock when he proposed the current plan of funding. Who else supports the WRO?
I am guessing that your sources for this information are titbits picked up from the Network. There are certainly enough debates and conversations to be found there regarding the funding sources for the WRO.
As for an answer to your ask, it is not possible at this time to confirm or deny speculations, the WRO is something of a social enterprise where profits are not the main priority. Gil, however, is a necessity, but we cannot make statements about the sources until certain stakeholders are consulted.
We need to look at how to make the efforts of the WRO more transparent, accountable to questions such as your own, but these things take time and negotiation. I ask you to be patient.
As for who else supports the WRO? You all do.
-Cmr Reeve Tuesti
Reeve sits back to read his response before sending. The rumours have grown since the events of Deepground, the swell of public enquiry needing a levee. Now perhaps, he thinks, the name of Shinra can be legitimately recognised, though what that might incur for them all is an unknown quantity. He reaches into a desk drawer, a secret mechanism tripped as he pulls out notes, prints and a diary. A meeting with Rufus is long overdue…
The questions intrigue him, and there is some anticipatory frission that passes through the former engineer as he thinks on the past and just what that might mean for their future.
It had not been a single definable meeting where words were traded, negotiations meted and deadlines issued. The final agreement too coming as no ‘shock’ to Reeve. The orbit of Shinra post-meteor had been just as potent then as it was before to someone who had served within that former black hole.
His own vision and understanding merely circled and danced with Rufus’ so-called fated revelations for a couple of years.
It had started perhaps when the calamity was about to crash and Reeve, having narrowly escaped with his own life, was starting to gather in his own resources to aid the evacuation of Midgar. Veld and some of the former Turks had arrived.
Shortly afterwards so did a couple of the others.
Reeve burst into laughter at Reno’s words, “I’m sorry, Rufus has asked you to seek out what again?”
This time it was not the agitated red-head that spoke but Rude, “…Friends.” Reeve could not see the expression behind the stoic Turk’s sunglasses but Reno was screwing in his face up to the ceiling as he finished the sentence instead, “Said ‘jus’ cos they’re staff, don’ mean they’re friends. Understood?’”
Reeve was still laughing inside, you had to hang on to whatever humour you could find - gallows or no - and the thought of Rufus asking the Turks to gather friends had just… tickled him, somehow. He manages to keep his voice steady and answered, “Understood,” before (very politely) showing them the door.
Reeve Tuesti was no longer an employee of Shinra Electric Company Inc after all.
He had gone to Junon.
Kalm, where Rufus and his Turks had been temporarily based, was too close to home and already chock full of the refugees he and the rest had diverted from Midgar. Besides, there was some unfinished business he needed to attend to.
He stayed a while there, the information flow, from Midgar to Kalm to Junon and back again, easily monitored (and managed) from his former academic town. Rufus had been kidnapped, there were reports of a new affliction that oozed black substance from the skin then killed you. The few who were spared death - for whatever reason - endured significant pain. And this was just the start.
Reeve made new connections. Scientists, soldiers. The banners of Shinra now flew tattered and defaced in the ocean breeze.
Then movement began to stir in Midgar, warehouses pillaged for supplies. Warehouses that to all intents and purposes should not be accessed by anyone without significant Shinra clearances. Reeve tapped the original blueprints for Midgar spread across his desk, then laid a palm over sector 5.
This had the shape of Shinra’s hand all over it.
He transferred some more funds from his own accounts and people departed. More people arrived. The eyes and ears, the hands and helpers, the thinkers and the fighters. They all came with a price, and he was fast running out.
Reeve could do with a friend.
Veld nodded. They had been talking all night, a finished bottle of whiskey stood on the dresser and Reeve thought, a little sadly, the other man looked tired.
But then he himself has not dared to look too hard into the mirror for at least three months.
“Kylegate is a bona-fide lunatic but-“
“But. Rufus Shinra is a cunning bastard.”
“Ha. You’re coming along just fine, kid.”
“Hmph. Go get some sleep, old man.”
From Junon to ‘Edge’ to Healin Lodge. Rufus is sitting in a wheelchair, eye bandaged, skin and hair more ashen than Reeve could recall. It had been a long time coming but finally their waltz was reaching its final stanza.
Reeve questions, “Edge?” and Rufus replies, “It fits, there was no reason to change the name.”
Rufus questions, “You’re here because you have heard my suggestion,” and Reeve nods a reply, “And in this case, there are several reasons to change. And not just the name.”
Rufus raises his hand slightly from the armrest of the chair, fingers motioning to Reeve to continue. Reeve can see the stigma creeping down Rufus’ wrist from underneath a white cuff, “World Regenesis Organisation, the WRO, is far more palatable don’t you think?”
Rufus smirks, Reeve folds his hands in front of him on the desk and keeps his features blank. The signs emblazoned with the WRO insignia have already been erected around key sites.
“You still have your doubts, Reeve. I have made my intent very clear.”
“Yes. A large momument is being built in the central square. It’s quite a statement, Rufus.”
Rufus dips his head slightly, “A mere concession.” Reeve sits back in the chair and time passes, before he meets the motion with one of his own.
Both men lock gazes before Reeve reaches into his pocket. Tseng, watching them both, goes to move, but is quickly gestured to stand down as Rufus does the same. Papers are exchanged.
When Reeve stands to leave, he flashes a quick smile to the black-haired Turk then adds, “You know Rufus, you might want a friend to look at that chair for you.” An uncharacteristic scowl graces Rufus’ features, “Expect little contact from me, Reeve. Further negotiations will be carried out through Tseng.”
A friend indeed? As Reeve takes Rufus’ hand, one dance finishes before another begins.