candybox | OPEN POST: Tifa Lockhart

"Sure thing." She slides a menu towards him (a lot of junk food, but all of it homemade), then takes the glass, pouring him another drink. As she does so she absently hums the Stamp theme tune, a quiet tell to see if his reaction is someone to trust or not.

"Here you go," she sets down a fresh glass of whiskey for him, red eyes searching his expression.

It's hard to read through the vaguely annoyed scowl that seems to be his default expression, and indeed, there's very little visible reaction to the familiar tune ... but his eyes do flick up from the menu, locking with hers for a brief moment.

"Thanks." He replies as she sets the refilled glass down next to him, and his attention returns to the menu in his hand.

His free hand, though, doesn't go for the whiskey just yet. Instead, he drums his fingers against the laquered wood of the bar, beating out the Stamp theme tune from the note she'd left off at.

That answers his questions about her involvement, at the very least.

That response would go a ways to settling the uneasy feeling in her chest, but it wouldn't last long. When the man he's been waiting for finally shows, she closes up the bar for the night so they can go downstairs to the hideout and hold an impromptu meeting.

It's nothing short of disastrous, and confirms every kind of fear Tifa had when she'd signed up to Avalanche. It's hard not to sympathise with him against Barret's bullheadedness, but she tries to set her own feelings aside enough to try and diffuse the argument before it escalated to blows or worse. They made a mistake. They won't make it next time, Jessie had already promised that much.

When the meeting is over and Barret has stormed off back home with little Marlene in tow, Tifa takes herself to the bar and pours a shot of vodka. She doesn't expect Aleifr to linger, but either way she doesn't particularly care about keeping up appearances right now.

Aleifr hadn't been expecting for the meeting to go smoothly. He knew Barret more by reputation than first hand experience, and everything he'd heard painted the picture of an extremely stubborn man - someone who'd accept that collateral damage if it meant hurting Shinra.

Barret had lived up to that. His team seemed horrified by the damage they'd done with the blast, but Barret ... Barret's mind was already on the next reactor and that had worked it's way under Aleifr's skin damn near immediately. It set his blood boiling seeing how quickly Barret could justify it all, and if it weren't for Tifa's efforts to disarm the situation, they likely would have come to blows.

The tension was only deescalated, though, not diffused. Barret was gone the moment the meeting was over, leaving his team to dejectedly disperse back to their own homes.

Maybe the lot of them would be able to temper Barret's extremism. Maybe they wouldn't. Either way, headquarters needed to hear about this and understand what a bloody timebomb they may be sitting on with someone like Barret leading strikes against Shinra.

He's already sorting through the details of the meeting and planning his report as he exits the hideout under Seventh Heaven. He's about to head for the door, leave this place behind as quickly as Barret had, but he's given momentary pause as Tifa walks up to the bar, retrieves a bottle of vodka, and pours herself a shot.

She looks exhausted.

Aleifr hesitates for a moment, lingering in the taproom, halfway between the bar and the door. Eventually, he turns towards the former.

"Think I could get some of that too?"

He doesn't make a move towards the bar to join her - not yet, at least.

She might tell him to fuck off. He wouldn't blame her.

She looks over her shoulder, eyes wide in surprise, but then nods.

"Yeah, sure." Her voice still has a tremble to it, despite her best efforts. He could use the drink more than she could, she supposes. She gets to her feet from the stool she'd been sitting on, taking out another shot glass and pouring him a drink -- as well as a refill for herself.

"I didn't want to say this in front of Barret, but... I'm sorry."

It's a gesture that seems to take Aleifr by surprise. It's not shocking given the remorse she showed during the meeting, but ... he hadn't expected her to actually voice it.

Some of the frustration still simmering under the surface cools, his scowl softens a little, and - while he doesn't thank her for it verbally - he responds with a small nod of acceptance. His eyes linger on her for a moment before his attention turns to the shot, which he plucks off the counter, drains without so much as a flinch, and replaces on the bartop.

He's quiet for a few, long moments before drawing in a long breath and exhaling it through his nose.

"What went wrong, do you think?"

He turns towards her. His expression isn't exactly inviting considering 'vaguely annoyed' just seems to be how his face sits ... but there's no hostility to it. It's not a demand for an answer or an accusation. He's leveling with her. Asking her plainly.

"I don't know for sure. Maybe someone made a mistake. Maybe Jessie..."

She doesn't want to lay all the blame at poor Jessie's feet, considering Jessie was blaming herself too. She grips the bartop and takes a steadying breath.

"The bomb was only supposed to disable the reactor. Internal damage, nothing else. They even made sure to sneak in at a time when no one would get hurt except Shinra security staff..." She trails off helplessly. She doesn't want to say it was a freak accident, because that would be the same as trying to avoid blame, so maybe human error really was the only explanation.

Aleifr nods again, silent as he processes what she's saying and mulls it over, trying to decide which option he believes to be more likely.

"My little sister lives in Sector One." He says, finally breaking his silence. "My family's from the slums, but Tyra's clever and talented enough that she got a good job topside. She designs clothes."

Without asking, Aleifr reaches for the bottle of vodka and refills his shot glass.

"The reactor blew maybe ten minutes after the end of her shift. She was on her way home, suddenly the whole fucking world was on fire ..."

He raises the shotglass to his lips. Down the hatch. Glass back to the counter.

"She's fine. Shaken, but nothing more than a few scratches from shattering windows. The shop she worked at ... less so. Not much of it left."

Aleifr stops looking off into space and turns his attention back towards Tifa.

"If she'd had to work late for any reason, or if she had a project she was trying to finish, she'd be gone." He pauses for a beat. "Ten. Damn. Minutes."

He sighs. He doesn't want to think about it, but he can't help it. It's one of the reasons he came here so angry, why Barret's moralizing justifications pissed him off so damn much and why he was so eager to try and beat some perspective into him.

That isn't all of it. No matter how evil Shinra is, no matter how badly they need to be stopped, the people who aren't a part of the fight don't deserve to be caught in the middle of it if it can be avoided.

His sister very nearly being one of the casualties just made it all the rawer.

Edited 2020-10-08 11:27 (UTC)

OPEN POST: Tifa Lockhart - Final Fantasy VII

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