raspberryturk: (Wild Thing)
Admittedly, a Wednesday night was a pretty shitty night to go to any bar that didn't actually have something going on. And, in a place like Edge, it wasn't just Wednesday nights that were like that, even at the most popular stop for alcoholic swill in town. It wasn't as though people were going to get together and sing karaoke. Name that tune was pretty much a thing of the past, too. Trivia night? Not so much. But if you got Cid Highwind drunk enough, he'd tell you all about that time he spent about five minutes stuck outside of Gaia's atmosphere.

Word to the wise: Don't get Cid Highwind drunk enough to tell you all about that time he spent about five minutes stuck outside of Gaia's atmosphere.

Fortunately, Reno didn't come to the bar unprepared. He was a Turk. He came prepared for anything, thank you very much. There was a stun baton hidden up his sleeve, extra money for booze tucked away in one pocket, and a deck of cards in one hand. Tifa even tolerated his presence here because he was more or less good business, and he tended to handle her cutting him off when she'd decided that he'd had enough with... minimal leering. Which made him significantly less obnoxious than some of the folks that stopped in for drinks.

And anyhow, kicking the asses of the bar's other regulars at poker? Totally made hitting this place up on his evening off worth any unpleasant aftertaste that his allotted few servings of Corel Ale left behind.

Hey, it wasn't Reno's fault that Barrett was shit at calling bluffs.

[Open for anyone who might want to give Reno a phone call, or what-have-you. He'll probably gloat at you relentlessly, just to rile up the big guy some more.]
raspberryturk: (Oh Thank Shit)
Reno had a bit of a dilemma, and he had today off by some miracle. And so, on his day off, he was going to attempt to fix it.

His living space since he'd moved in to Rude's apartment had become a little on the cramped side. Sure, it was more space than he'd had while he was living in the dorms on Fandom Island. But while he was in school, he hadn't been trying to cultivate greens, either. Unless one counted the green fuzz that sometimes grew on whatever he'd left sitting around, but that was a different thing entirely. As it stood, Reno was staring in bewilderment at the contents of Rude's living room.

Rude had set off for work today with a clearly stated mission for Reno to handle before he got back. He didn't care how he did it, just so long as it was done.

The clutter... would have to go.

So much easier said than done, when you were used to stockpiling whatever you could get your hands on, and you had people sending you care packages from all over creation. Nevermind the assorted bits he'd managed to gather with full intent to toss together a makeshift greenhouse in he future.

"Mako," Reno sighed, plucking the ferret out of his beans for the umpteeth time this afternoon, "I think this couch-surfin' shit ain't all it's made out to be, yo."

[NFB for distance, naturally, but open for the usual riffraff to give their phone calls and what-have-you!]
raspberryturk: (Come again?)
Too much drinking. Toooo much drinking, and fretting, and getting the rookie in trouble. And nothing in the world made a guy feel like cleaning his mouth out with sandpaper than a night that started with Corel ale, and then headed into rum and ice-cream territory. And really, it was a wonder that Reno had managed to drag his sorry ass back home last night in the first place.

Aftermath. )

[NFB for distance, as usual. Reno's open for phone calls or what-have-you. Elena's whereabouts mentioned with enabling permission from [livejournal.com profile] findingelena, and I find Tseng's temper to be entirely too much fun to play. Entirely.]
raspberryturk: (Up there omg)
Okay, so there'd been that dance last night. And there'd been training with Ghanima, and plenty of drinking, and then Fight Club, and now there was to be even more drinking. Because that was just how Reno rolled.

He'd kind of given up on the two-mouthful drinks that could be purchased from the minibar, and so he'd made a handwavey booze run earlier in the day, and he was now good and stocked up with everything from Absolut to the ingredients to slosh together a Flaming Zombie.

The name seemed fitting. Reno kinda had to, here.

Oh yeah, and there were the partners in crime.

[Come one, come all! The booze is free!]
raspberryturk: (Almost Thoughtful There)
There were some things that were totally worth getting in trouble with the boss for, Reno decided. Being a grumpy son of a bitch was good for things like getting on Tseng's nerves, teaching the rookie how to run for cover, and also for getting sent on impromptu vacations to other worlds in order to visit the girlfriend.

It had totally been worth it. But, as such things tend to go, this vacation didn't last forever, and soon Reno was hopping another portal back to Edge.

The first thing he did upon getting home was reach for the Everclear that Romeo had sent him. Romeo was still the best buddy ever, and Reno was going to have to find some way to make it up to him. Maybe he'd ship him some porn or something. That was always excellent payback, right?

And then he checked the texts and voicemails that he'd missed lately. Which led to a lot of alternating between laughing and frowning. Killing beans and killing babies were two very different things indeed. But hey, verbal Twitters were amusing, at least.

It wasn't until he went to check on the beans to be certain that they were still alive (they were) and the ferret to make sure that he wasn't dead (he wasn't) that a chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling, hitting Reno solidly on the head and reminding him quite firmly that he wasn't in Spira anymore.

Sigh.

"Home sweet shithole."

[NFB for distance and all, but Reno's open for phone calls, text messages, random letters, and all of that good stuff.]
raspberryturk: (Lounging)
It was a good thing that Bat Eyes were so damn easy to take down, Reno mused, as he wiped some bloody monster sludge off of his baton and onto his pant leg. Things had been busy in Edge over the past few days. A few monsters had wandered into the outskirts of the town out of the ruins of what used to be the Midgar slums, and they were having their hungry ways with the locals.

Which suited Reno just fine. He got the pleasure of being hired on by the WRO in order to take care of the threat while they continued working on setting up their military, and on top of the pay that they were giving him to deal with the job, he got to keep whatever the monsters dropped when he took them down, too. Mostly ethers and bubblegum money, but he could live with that.

He finished rummaging through what was left of the corpse of the last one as it faded away to join the lifestream, or whatever it was that dead monsters did, and then he took a seat on the nearest bench, sprawling out, looking up at the bluish-gray haze of sky above him, pulling out his phone, and turning it on.

Sometimes, rebuilding wasn't really so bad after all.

[For anybody who wants to phone or be phoned! NFB for distance, of course! Zack-related spoilers throughout the threads. Read at your own risk, yo.]
raspberryturk: (Cell Phone)
Rude's couch was lumpy and hard to sleep on.

Rude's couch was lumpy and hard to sleep on, Rude's booze was running low, and the lighting in Rude's living room sucked.

All that, and Reno had more reading material than he could have ever hoped for. And a bean sprout in a plastic cup sitting in some wet paper towel. And a pair of cacti that he hadn't managed to kill yet. And an anxious ferret, attempting to help him either with the booze, or with the reading, whichever Mako happened to be able to reach more easily at the time.

As such things went, after a week and a half back in Edge with no outlet to the real world, it was time for Reno to take a break. He'd written a letter earlier in the week in reply to one that he'd gotten last week Thursday, which was all well and good... but dammit, he needed to hear a voice that didn't belong to a Turk, a member of the WRO, or some random person living on the street corners in Edge.

Spare Gil for the homeless, they'd beg, and he'd toss them a few, just because he had a few to spare. But not without a mumble and a frown.

Yeah. You an' everyone else, yo.

He needed to make some freaking phone calls, or he was going to go out of his mind, damn it.

[NFB for distance, open to anyone who thinks that Reno would have a reason to call them! Or, heck, open to anyone. He's bored, he'll probably just hit buttons until he hears familiar voices, at this point.]

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Reno of the Turks

2017

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