[It's probably not surprising that sooner or later, Rufus would find himself drawn to the High Roller lounge himself — never one to shy away from high-risk high-reward gambles, ever confident in his own ability to come out ahead of the game no matter the wager. What is surprising, however, is the familiar sight of one exquisitely bald head and ever-present dark sunglasses, and at first he almost doesn't believe his own eyes because it's been so long with only Tseng's presence for familiar security, but —

Well, this is the High Roller lounge. Why wouldn't luck go in his favor?

He makes his approach to the table where Rude's sitting at a leisurely, winding pace, aiming to blend in with the bustle moreso than just march right through it, and uses the time to further confirm his suspicions. But yes, it's him, and so as one of the rounds comes to a close, he chooses his moment well and breezes in to stand next to Rude, draping a fairly out-of-character arm over his shoulder and trusting that his well-trained Turk will take the unusual action for the signal it represents.]

Mm. Much as I'm sure we'd all like to see you lose your shirt, I'll cover your next bet. If you think you can win, that is.

[Hello, Rude. Have a convenient opportunity to acknowledge your boss, discreet and undercover.]