raspberryturk: (Facepalmy as he is gonna get)
Yep. Nothing like a night out drinking with the boys to celebrate that whole not-being-dead-or-invaded-by-zombies thing to make Reno feel like he would possibly rather be dead again, if only because it would make the room stop attacking his brain from all angles.

Okay, so the Bacardi 151 shots had been a bad idea, after he'd started with Everclear in the first place. Reno was going to just lay there in bed, half-dead for the rest of the-

"FREAKIN' OW."

Reno barely managed to sit up in time to see the gremlin scurry off, and then he barely had time to groan in dim realization before the venom took over.

The hangover that he had been suffering from had left him completely. Not because he had forgotten about it, but because he had given it a dirty look, and it had run away in fear.

That was just how Chuck Norris worked, bitches.

[Oooh so very establishy.]
raspberryturk: (Cell Phone)
It was a shame that Reno was, as of yet, completely unaware of any goings-on of an undead nature outside the confines of his own room.

However, he was well aware of what day of the year it was. One of the few great holidays that this world had to offer that Reno could actually remember.

And that was why he was in his room, on the phone, placing an order for fruit-basket deliveries to some people he knew back home.

"Yeah, yeah, I know damn well how much it's gonna cost me to get fresh produce shipped into Edge, yo. I was there when Midgar fell. But this is real important, yo!" A pause while he listened to the person on the other end. "No, no, 'Tseng' starts with a 'T,' zoto. T-S-E-N-G. Yeah. Uh-huh. Whaddaya mean, you don't know where that address is? Okay, fine, how 'bout you just ship the fruit basket to Rufus Shinra, instead? He's a pretty big dumbfuck, too."

There was another pause, and then Reno swore under his breath. Stupid grocers, hanging up on him.

He'd have to send them an April Fool's fruit-basket, too. That'd show 'em.

[Open room is open!]
raspberryturk: (Weetiny Raspberry!)
It had been a long day, and Reno had gotten permission to beat people up for candy, which meant that Deadpool was the coolest adult ever. But, as really cool days tended to go, there was always a time when wee Renos had to retire to their bedrooms again, in order to pull on their pyjamas and get ready for be-

"WEASEL! WEASEL WEASEL WEASEL!!!"

Maybe not get ready for bed so much. There was a time when wee Renos had to harass the poor ferret, instead.

Honk!

[Open room post is open!]
raspberryturk: (Timon - Casual)
Timon Berkowitz was, as Timon Berkowitz always had been, a particularly sound sleeper. And really, one had to be, when one's bed was usually atop the backside of a snoring warthog.

The warthog had never minded, of course. Pumbaa had been Timon's bestest best friend for years, and nothing about that was ever going to change. Ever. Heck, judging by the particularly warm squishiness of his favoritest sleeping spot today, the little meerkat found himself waking up with a grin.

"Been packin' on the pounds again, huh, Pumb--" He blinked. This certainly wasn't the jungle. And he certainly wasn't sleeping on Pumbaa's back. "Huh."

Being a meerkat of great courage and loyalty, naturally Timon was terribly concerned for the well-being and safety of his misplaced buddy.

"I wonder what kinda grub they have to eat around this joint!"

... Mostly.

[Open like an open thing! Yes, Reno is Timon the Meerkat, from The Lion King continuity- But with a few tweaks. He's from the Timon and Pumbaa cartoon show, as Quinton Flynn does both Reno's voice and season one's Timon. And people can understand what he says! Hooray, talking meerkat!]
raspberryturk: (Just talkin)
"--And you don't even smell that bad," Reno said, holding his ferret in his arms. He'd been going on like this since he'd woken up and decided to strike up a friendly rapport with his pet. "Kinda like sour somethin'-or-other or kinda gunky feet or somethin'. I've smelled worse, yo. I mean, like, I smelled worse, Mako. You should'a seen the kinda junk we had to wade through as Turks. And, I mean, Midgar. There was a city that stank. I miss Midgar. And here I am talkin' to you like a nut. You know, I shouldn't even have a pet? I only agreed to gettin' you when Rikku dragged me to the pet shop 'cause I crave some kinda companionship that ain't gonna leave me just because they find out I'm some kinda heartless government tool--"

That was about the point where he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned.

"And you don't care. You're some kinda weasel thing. So why am I tellin' you this?"

Mako blinked up at Reno lazily, and then set his chin down on his lap and attempted to sleep. Snoozing was hard when someone kept trying to strike up a conversation with you, after all.

[Open door is open!]
raspberryturk: (Cell Phone)
Phone Calls, Woo! )
When Reno hung up his own phone, his first course of action was to let out a triumphant "WHOOP!"

And his second course of action, naturally, was to put down the ferret and start making the checklist. Gil, materia, potions, his EMR, booze. The essentials.

This was going to be an awesome weekend.


[Open! Tseng was provided by the ever-awesome [livejournal.com profile] the_merriest! Last post I'll be making in Alberta, yay! Rikku's thread is last chronologically, because I said so.]
raspberryturk: (Smoking2)
With the window cracked open slightly to let the tobacco smoke drift outside, it felt almost suspiciously like a winter in Midgar, under the plate. Or, at least, the chill did, seeping into the room in little wisps and breezes, prompting Reno to actually close his shirt the entire way, for once. The freshness in the cool air was still strange to him, even though he'd arrived on the island nearly a year ago. Some things just never felt natural, not when you'd lived without them your entire life.

It had to be getting cold again by now, back in Edge. People who'd lived their own lives through in cozy, heated homes would be starting to brace themselves for the long haul, spending their winters the way the less fortunate used to, back when being from the plate or being from the slums actually meant something.

It's A Wonderful Life- A La Reno )

[Just taking advantage of the Wonderful Life random event with one of my own, here. Establishy goodness is good and establishy, yo. But OOC is awesome. Because it is. La!]
raspberryturk: (Mako - Kid WHOA)
It was morning! Almost morning! Kinda morning! The glowy letters on the clock-thingie were looking kinda like they usually did when Mako always woke up to scratch around his cage and Reno was in bed and he had to get up soon anyhow because it was Reno-wake-up time and Mako wasn't in his cage today, he was on the floor! In clothing things! And he was biiiiiiiiig.

Which, really, could only mean one thing.

Today was the day that Mako was going to steal the bed and put it over there in his corner under his cage!!

With a somewhat uncoordinated happy sort of bounce which wound up with him falling on his behind with a loud thud because bouncing on two legs was harder than bouncing on four legs but that was okay because he was just fine anyhow!!!-- Mako started to tug on the end of the spare bed with his hands. Which, he decided, was soooo much cooler than pulling on things with his mouth, and he was going to totally keep these hands if he was allowed.

Over there, across the room, Reno was being all sleeeepy and cranky and he soooo wasn't a morning person. Which was sad, because if he was, Mako was gonna want to play, and it was eating time anyhow, and shouldn't Reno be awake to feed him soon? He should! So Mako was going to try to honk but it came out as a giggle-thing and he would bounce and trip over his own feet and giggle-honk some more until Reno opened his eyes and sat up and--

"Who the shit are you, zoto?!"

Victory!

[Post is open for interaction, if you're up before anyone in the universe should have any right to be IC, and if you don't mind crazy slowplay OOC!]
raspberryturk: (Smirk)
Reno had survived the day, from his training with Ghanima to making plans with Ino, on to Romeo's birthday party and then to do the radio broadcast.

His day wasn't over yet. Oh no.

Smoochy had to die.

[For one!]
raspberryturk: (What am I Saying?)
Time for another lazy day. That sort of lazy day where Reno was going to check his e-mails before even considering anything else.

Naturally, he grinned and replied to the e-mail Doji sent him with one of his own.


To: dōjima@fandomhigh.org
From: reno@fandomhigh.org
RE: Tomorrow! )


And, when that was done, he decided to check his snail mail. Someone out there, for some reason, was writing him snail mail.

He was pretty sure he knew who, as it was addressed:


TO THE PUNK-ASS SNOT-NOSED KID )



Reno had to read this other letter three or four times before he could do so without laughing.

Oh, damn, he was dead meat.

Rikku's dad was pretty damn cool.

[Contents of the e-mail NFB. Letter provided by the lovely [livejournal.com profile] the_merriest. Post is open, but I'm headed to work in half an hour and will be gone for the next ten, so will be extreme SP if you stop by.]
raspberryturk: (Default)
Reno was of legal voting age, sure, but was not American. Heck, he wasn't even from this planet. And anyhow, it wasn't like he'd know what to do with a ballot if it hit him in the face. Mayoral elections in Midgar had been a joke, because all the strings had been pulled by the guy on top anyhow. So he'd largely ignored politics back home in favor of doing his job and beating things up. That had always been more interesting anyhow.

That was why, instead of being too concerned about the election going on outside today, Reno was making himself comfortable in his room, pitting his ferret against both the wee elephant that had wandered in, and the donkey.

Kind of like a cockfight, but with more honking.

The ferret seemed to be winning.

[The door's open, and I'll be around all day.]
raspberryturk: (Facepalmy as he is gonna get)
Reno felt like crap today.

Reno had felt like crap yesterday.

But at least Reno wasn't a toaster.

...

Fandom's capacity for cruelty knew no boundaries. Reno could be thankful that he wasn't a toaster while he was sick in bed pretending that he was just fine, dammit, if he wanted to be.

On top of that, he was good and cranky because he'd missed out on stealing rum from the squirrels last night.

[Establishy, unless you feel brave like soldiers and wanna risk being cut off by LJ downtime.]
raspberryturk: (Default)
After class, Reno headed back to his room. His nice, quiet room. To play with his ferret. Because this Parents Weekend thing was for the birds, and he didn't keep birds. Or have parents. So he figured he was pleasantly safe.

[Room thing part, totally open, la.]
raspberryturk: (Doorway)
Reno had to talk.
Headed down to Rikku's room.
Knocking on the door.

[For the laaaady.]
raspberryturk: (Cell Phone)
Tying up loose ends, yo. )

[Preplayed with and coded by the remarkable [livejournal.com profile] the_merriest! NFI 'cause I'm going to bed, darnit~]
raspberryturk: (Facepalmy as he is gonna get)
Reno cracked open one eye.

And then he cracked open the other.

And then he shot into a sitting position with a bit of a yelp, looking around his room in a cold sweat.

... Oh. Okay. Okay, he wasn't dead, and he wasn't locked in a closet while not dead, after all, and he was pretty certain that he was sane again. Or as close as he ever got to it. No evil twins? No vast fortune? He was still just a dirty paid killer from the slums? He'd just slept in?

Okay. Good. Reno shook his head to himself, swore up and down that someday he was gonna find the island's balls so that he could kick them in, and then he got out of bed to feed his ferret. His nice, normal, possibly slightly retarded mutt of a ferret, who had perfectly normal toes and a tendency to honk at anything that moved.

"Fandom is way too friggin' weird," he mumbled to himself.

Mako Dumbass the First agreed with a hearty sort of honk while he gnawed on Reno's fingers.

[Open if anyone wants to say hi. I just felt like being all posty.]
raspberryturk: (Facepalmy as he is gonna get)
Still in his brother's room, still attempting to make heads-or-tails of the purple prose mess that was his twin brother's diary, Rone was starting to suspect that Reno was not just a romantic, he was a stupid one.

It was really just a hunch, anyhow.

Something about the way he'd gone on about the love of his life, dumbapple of his eye, his little cusadrehk (what the hell was a cusadrehk?), had just given Rone the notion, really.

"Oh, come on," Rone grumbled, flipping past another page of poetry that Reno had written but never had the heart to give to his lady love, "just get to the part about where the money's at."

This was going to be a while, wasn't it?

[Open! Some more. Still open! Open-ish! With someone in mind~]
raspberryturk: (Smirk)
Rone, the twin of the ill-fated and rather dim, rather wealthy, and stunningly attractive Reno, had spent Saturday in his newly acquired room, rifling through all of his ill-gotten gains. The body of his late brother had been tied up (simply because one could never be too careful) and locked in the closet, where Rone wouldn't have to lay eyes on it until he could find the opportunity to properly dispose of the very clearly, certainly, obviously, and indisputably dead thing.

He didn't mind losing the closet space, really. His twin brother kept very little in his enormous walk-in closet, aside from a few Armani suits and the food for Reno's rarest-of-the-rare prized pedigree Amazon black-footed angora siamese polydactyl scentless albino vegan afghan show-ferret, of course. And Rone had little interest in such trivial things.

No, no, Rone's attention had been on far more important fare. Reno's diary, left on the nightstand with the key conveniently set beside it for purposes of quickening along the scene, had proven to be interesting reading last night. He had learned a great deal about the family that he had never known and about the life that he was now going to assume for his own.

His foolish brother's diary had become his bible, and a red sharpie marker had taken care of the little matter of mimicking the two red birthmarks on his brother's cheeks, which were the only features that, at a glance or a glimpse or even a good, long look, set the two of them apart.

Armed with Reno's entire life story scrawled in flowery calligraphy in a little black book, Rone's plot to have his revenge and to take the family fortune for himself was finally underway. Reno's wallet was in his pocket, and he'd painstakingly perfected the art of forging his twin brother's signature overnight. All that remained now was the process of insinuating himself into every aspect of the life that his brother had once known.

Just as soon as he'd had himself a nice, long, melodramatic laugh, naturally.

[Door is closed, but the post is open, if you'd like to pop in. I'm headed to bed right away, but I'll be around to catch pings in the morning!]
raspberryturk: (Smirk)
Reno did not want to get out of bed today.

This was odd, for Reno. The mornings were normally a source of excitement for him, a time to reflect upon the beautiful happenings of the day before, and to anticipate the day ahead of him with the sort of optimistic joy seen only in the very rich, and the very stupid.

Reno was, of course, both.

He was also loyal to a fault, and he had a habit of handing out money to any local charity that he heard of, as there was money to give, and no reason for Reno to keep his hands on it all.

But today? Today, Reno did not want to get out of bed. In spite of the dance last night, spent with the most wonderful woman who had ever entered his life, today seemed to have a sense of foreboding to it. Ill-will, hanging in the air, which cut him clean through to the bone.

It wasn't until he opened his eyes that he realized, it wasn't simply a sense of dread.

"You!"

It was his twin brother, looming over him, a cruel smirk on his lips and a gun leveled toward him. He hadn't seen him in years. They'd been separated at birth, actually, and Reno had never had the chance to get to know him through his long and prosperous life. His mother had spoken of him, fondly. The baby boy that the hospital had misplaced, sent, no doubt, to live a life under the plate. Reno liked to dream that perhaps this other him had found some shred of goodness in the world as well, in spite of his family and fortune being lost so young.

Instead, it seemed, Reno's twin had found Reno.

All the focus in the room seemed to shift to that gun for an agonizingly long moment.

"Goodbye, brother."

And then the scene cut to black.

[HOORAY SOW. This is just establishy, naturally, as Reno's evil twin probably doesn't want to be interrupted while he's hiding the body.]
raspberryturk: (Smoking)
Getting out and appreciating being back on Fandom? Reno wasn't up for getting out and appreciating being back on Fandom.

Reno was up for sitting in his room, really. Sitting was good. He'd gotten sleep and he'd handwavily done his morning training with Ghanima, and sitting by his window smoking seemed to be the order of the remainder of the day, at least until radio.

Sitting at the window, reminding himself why it was he always figured Turks don't date.

He was going to go through a few packs, today.

[Door's closed, and post is open, but with an "I leave for work in half an hour and then have Radio tonight so expect super, super slowplay" warning.]

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Reno of the Turks

2017

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