A/N: As you can see, my Turk's aren't very nice. So many people over romanticize them in my mind… I'm trying to avoid that track. And to belatedly answer a question from the first chapter, yes, there are some parings. One of them is the common Elena Tseng couple. Though it's mild for the moment and I don't expect anything racy to make it into this story. It's on the lines of on sided infatuation on both sides… for the moment at least.

A Shinra Masquerade

Bronze Feathers: Enter the Phoenix

Gaudy yellow, marred with spots of red, burnt orange, and tarnished bronze, they were traditionally colors ascribed to the phoenix. But who's tradition those colors came from, that was the most telling. Wuati had a number of stories about the fire bird, and only a few were civilized enough to grace the pages of popular fantasy novels on the Continental side. Those stories panted the phoenix as a creature of fire and healing. They were creatures of light, and because of that they graced a few novels cast in cheery hues of gold, yellow, and red. Good nature, good will, those traits had to be reflected in color scheme, and the pictures she'd seen of it were as gaudy as the creature's nature was fantastic.

In Wuati things were different. They told stores that weren't PG 13. They didn't tone down their ancient lore for the kiddies, to promote "a psychological stimulating and nurturing environment". She remembered during a meeting with Tseng how one time how her eyes had strayed to an ill placed screen. It seemed insane to have a screen that blocked nothing, tucked into the corner of a dirge black office. Still, it was a flash of color and Tseng happened to be harping at her about some rather boring problem that wasn't her fault. So her eyes and strayed and been caught by the familiar image that wasn't so familiar anymore. The phoenix rampant -not on a blue sky or against the sun like normal- but set against a burning city of bronze. To be more accurate it was torching a city of bronze.

Amused rather than annoyed by her transgression –a trait caused by something Reno had slipped into their bosses' coffee, Elena was sure- Tseng had turned to see what had caught her eye. And when he saw he actually smiled.

"Surprised?" He murmured, his voice was always soft, but it became a purr as he murmured. The gentle sound was almost funny when you considered that the man who made it was rumored to kill people who failed him too often. The man who had calmly admitted to her –and to all the rookies during training to test their resolve- that he had once shoot a child at point blank. "Like all things, the Phoenix brings devastation as much as salvation. That is Him burning the city of bronze, an ancient capitol of Wauti that was by the shore. It's said that to this day the land where He cast His flame still refuses to yield life."

Having caught the faint emphasis of his words –Elane always prided herself on picking up the small things- and feeling bold by the fact he wasn't scolding her Elena dared to offer her own opinion. "You make it sound like this Pheonix of yours is some sort of god."

He'd said nothing, but the look he pinned on her was enough to shiver her skin. She'd heard other stories, of him killing people who knew too much, who'd said the wrong thing to the wrong person. Would he kill someone who'd hit a nerve? After some thought the young Turk decided on a tentative, maybe, as her answer of choice. There were stories of his temper, terrifying stories of dark homicidal rages, but then when you killed for a living such small mental insanities were going to happen eventually. They all had their small cases of nuttiness. Elane, like Rude, hid hers as best she could and silently coped, Reno evaded them with drink and girls, and Tseng…. Well maybe his people accepted those who'd seen too much and done too much, or maybe not. It wasn't like he was going to break down his barriers and tell her anything.

He glared at her and she remained silent, outwardly unflinching even when on the inside she quaked. Snake black eyes stared at her from under the arches of thick yet well trained 'brows. Finally Tseng broke the moment, and the tension with a smile, one that didn't reach his eyes.

Not one to be fooled -or have her composure broke over a personality shift- Elena had continued to met his gaze as she had before. She remained silent, unflinching, with a faint air of professional submissiveness.

Tseng chuckled then, and the amusement that was on his face caressed his eyes, made the death in them flicker and dance like it was warmth.

"Those born under the Phoenix are powerful forces in their lives, and their deaths are almost as dramatic as their lives." His words and tone carried a hint of a secret to them. As if he was confiding some great piece of information to her.

"And you sir, were you born under the Phoenix astrological sign?" It seemed safe enough a question, neutral, innocent even.

"Hardly," Tseng snorted, sounding amused. "I'm not flamboyant enough for it." Then, as if sensing her unspoken question –but more likely deducing it from her posture and expression and a few other hundred signs- he answered her thought. "A Balisk, for myself. And you, if you must know, are a Rok. The creatures you are imagining aren't quite the same as the ones I am referring to. You're thinking of the beasts that bear those names, I mean the ones that are in the tales of my people."

My people, a damning phrase for any Wautian son to use in Midgar. And it was only on reflection that she realized something that would haunt her for many weeks after. Tseng trusted her, he had trusted her then, and perhaps even dared to trust her even now. The thought made her shiver just a little, and she was able to put more steel into her resolve and confidence in her action on later missions to come.

Which, Elena would come to suspect at a later date, was perhaps what Tseng had strived to gain. A few words, a small gesture, then viola attempted perfection from the imperfect Turk. It would make sense, he hadn't had to carp at her about her resolve or confidence ever since that talk between them. Anyways, he had other girls to sped his time with. Elena imagined that a man like Tseng was drawn to more attractive, charming, girls who weren't outspoken or crass as she was.

Shaking off the memories like she'd shake off a few drops of cold water, Elena looked long and hard at her companion. He'd taken her hand, played the perfect gentleman, pulling out her chair and thoughtfully fetching Elena a paper plate and some plastic utensils. He'd thoughtfully provided her a pair of cheap chopsticks and a spoon and fork, pretending to be ignorant of her preference. Yes, pretending, because he watched him hesitate from the corner of her eye. His hand had hovered a mere fraction too long over the 'sticks. Again, another damning pause had occurred when she'd taken the sticks, he'd gone past the plate and utensil island and had gathered up a slew of food stuffs. Some were chopstick friendly, most were not, and again he showed his hand. A fraction of a second' pause then he'd pick up the bad, an instantaneous grab for the good. Most of the good mostly consisted of noodles and stir fry. She noted the last with a sigh that she kept strictly internal.

"Chips," she informed him with both dry and ironic, "are not easy to eat with these." She clicked the sticks for emphasis and he mock cringed and playfully groveled.

All his acts were done mutely now; as if in fear she'd find his real voice among the slew of acts he pulled in her presence. She smirked, and tried to decide who and what he was as he skipped off to fetch some bean dip. Tseng would never act like this, she was sure, and she mentally prayed to the Planet that he never heard that she'd been here. Reno, she could see him pulling this stunt, tricking Rude into tagging along, but for all intents and purposes the Phoenix was alone.

And Reno couldn't hold a secret, not this long. It had almost been an hour now, and the Phoenix hadn't cracked.

A loud crunch from right by her made her hop. She turned, and glared into the masked face. His eyes, she looked for them, to meet them head on… They must be somewhere behind those large glass lenses that were tinted such a vibrant yellow that the edges of skin that could be seen around them were a yellow and the eyes themselves were lines cast in shades of gold.

"Don't startle me. If you didn't know, which I'm sure you do, I kill things for a living."

Sheepishly he held a metal nut cracker out to her as a peace offering. She ignored it, and him. Going so far as to turn her back on him before helping herself to some chow-mien. When she heard another heart stopping 'crunch' of a shell breaking she didn't whirl on him, hand on her gun, she pretended to ignore him. The next nut cracking sound was oddly muffled, and the oddness to the sound made her turn.

Comically or thoughtfully (it depended how you looked at it) the person who was calling himself Phoenix was trying to muffle the sound of his snacking by grinding the shell off with one hand and cradling the soon to be eaten nut to his chest. The feathers and fabric softened the sound enough so her first impulse wasn't to jump. She smiled when he looked up and met her eyes.

"You're sweet, but too much of a player to be my type, Reno."

When those oddly colorless yet colorful yellow on yellow eyes met hers she had the impression of laughter. Still he didn't shake his head and give the game away. With a gentle hand she reached out and brushed the front of his robe, smoothing down a bronze feather.

With a grin she tweaked the bronze hued feather and decided one thing for sure. Whoever this Phoenix was, he was... knowledgeable about things. He knew things that people weren't supposed to know about.