IN PROGRESS
Shinra Inc: the mass producer of Mako Energy and supplier of electricity to thousands of homes and inhabitants on the planet. Administrated by the arrogant President Shinra over the board of directors. One such director, by the name of Heidegger, controls the Department of Public Safety Maintenance, which controls Shinra's army – a branch by the name of SOLDIER.
Within this elite group of men, classes were created to form the level of importance and in many cases, strength. With the highest level of First Class, the rank of General was occupied by a certain member of SOLDIER currently sat within the President's office amongst many other various and insignificant figures.
Leaning back against the deep emerald cushions, his cat-like eyes flicker over the heads of his colleagues which nod in a hypnotic unison as President Shinra drowns the room with his over-rehearsed speech of past events, daily mundane routines and future tasks that, to which he makes no note of, do not concern the General.
Hastily making an exit before his stoutly Manager's brain drags up yet another comment to add to that never ending list, the high ranking member of SOLDIER swiftly strides down the dull, corridors of the Shinra Inc building.
As his chamber door becomes visible to his narrowing green eyes, he senses a presence behind him. Tilting his head to the side and glancing back over his armour-plated shoulder, his gaze falls upon a shorter figure clothed in the uniform of a lowly guard.
Groaning with slight aggravation he turns and roughly snatches the documents out of the figure's hand, bounding into his room and throwing them onto his desk as he takes seat behind it.
The guard paces in slowly, the intimidating figure of the General rapidly scribbling his signature on the Shinra documents as hurriedly as possible, eager to rid himself of work related tasks that occupy his time for rest.
Finishing the paperwork without a single effort to scan through the blotched fine print; he knocks the documents towards the end of the desk as a signal for the guard, tossing his ink pen down on the solid pine desk and resting his forehead against his fingertips with elbow propped up.
"Um…General Sephiroth…Sir?" The guard almost stutters, retrieving the signed Shinra files and watching as said General's eyes slowly make their way towards his own.
"…Yes?" His tone deep and somewhat annoyed as he is rather desperate for a lone night in.
"President Shinra requests your presence at the meeting again later tonight, Sir."
"…Is it compulsory?" The words as flat as his current state of mind.
"I believe so Sir…" The guard continues to talk, his words however, unheard by the General whose persistent migraine is too much to swat to one side.
"…General?"
The silver haired man retrieves himself from his chain of thought and turns his attention to the young looking guard, continuing his ignorance to the news and allowing his thoughts to continue.
His eyes narrow slightly as he focuses upon the face of the guard, seeing strands of spiked blonde hair from underneath the helmet that completed the Shinra uniform.
With pale, clear skin surrounding two swirling blue eyes – his appearance alone almost seemed too individual for a mere guard. The words he spoke were pronounced correctly and clearly with a hint of a deeper, masculine tone underneath.
Now, being constantly captive in a lone building occupied by men or women who have the appearance to be mistaken for men, Sephiroth had to deal with the constant absence of a partner. Such feelings and desires soon become bottled and restricted in the depths of his mind and strain for the perfect opportunity to release themselves in a desperate mean for entertainment and foremost pleasure.
Said moment of perfect opportunity began to unravel before his very eyes.
"Remove your helmet, guard." Words spoken from the General harshly interrupt the talk from the blonde figure. Blinking in a state of bewilderment, the helmet is removed by uncertain hands as the high ranking officer is able to look upon the innocent face on the figure before him.
"Your name," The tone with no fault strikes again in his barren chambers.
"…Excuse me Sir?" Replies the blonde, squinting slightly at the General whose eyes are focused directly upon him.
"What is your name?"
"…Cloud Sir," He answers, straightening himself up and raising his chin in an effort of pride.
"Cloud?"
"Strife; Cloud Strife Sir," He watches as the General escapes from his current seat behind his desk and heads for his chamber door, pushing it to a close as the latch's click echoes throughout the room.
