raspberryturk: (Freaked Out)
It was perhaps little-known fact that lazy-assed Reno of the Turks made it a daily ritual since coming back to the island to make his way to the beach to train, every morning before sunup. This usually involved a stupid amount of coffee, yes. Which didn't hurt anything. It kept him from accidentally smashing himself in the face with his baton, or something.

He hadn't been able to sleep last night, and so he found himself out a little earlier than usual, alternating between dragging ass and hauling it, trying to get a decent warm-up in before the usual suspects showed up for their own training sessions. He had to look competent, after all, for both the Rookie and Ghanima, whoever came first.

Three steps forward, a dash to the side as quickly as he could manage without dipping into Ghanima's training. Send sand flying in all directions at a sudden stop, and then dart forward again.

He barely stopped before barrelling into the most freaky-looking hole that he'd ever seen, backpedaling like crazy with wide eyes to avoid the pull that nearly yanked him off his feet.

He wasn't so lucky with the one that opened right behind him.

So much for training, today.

[OOC: Just hopping on the establishy bandwagon! Mmm, holes in reality.]
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: (Searching)
So, today had been a long day. Between his best buddy getting shot by some fancy-talking twit on the beach, and the annoying hex that had been placed on him by that nasty, nasty old chick during his and Doji's Sex Ed presentation, Reno was more than just a little ready to curl up on a chair by the window, staring out over the island.

Quietly. Very quietly. The laughing fits had subsided, fortunately, but he was still annoyingly mute.

At least the chittering of the ferret involved sound. When Reno wasn't in A Mood, he'd have to give Mako extra treats or something for helping him preserve his sanity.

[For one person in particular, but open for interaction before she shows up if you don't mind a somewhat one-sided conversation.]
raspberryturk: (Faceplanted owie)
Okay. So the fight against the centaur yesterday had been fun.

The fight against Hades today had been... less fun.

But they'd pulled people out of Hell-Or-Whatever-It-Was, and the day was saved. Or something of the sort.

Clearly, the best way for Reno to celebrate this was to bang his forehead against the door, down one ponytail and up one Rikku.

He'd get around to actually opening his door eventually. Just as soon as he felt up to pretending that his hands weren't too charred to dig the key from his pocket.

[For the modded-with-permission girlfriend!]
raspberryturk: (Smoking)
After checking on Romeo this morning, Reno had headed back down to his own room. It wasn't that there was anything of particular interest in there, really. His laptop was still useless and he still didn't have any desire to start on his report back to the boss. It was more that, by and large, he didn't feel up to going anywhere else.

He'd spent a short while looking over the texts on his phone that he'd been ignoring all week.

There had been a lot of them. )

There had been more like those, but Reno had stopped there, closed his phone, and set it to the side.

He still didn't feel like answering them. Tseng could wait.

Right now, he'd just crack open his window a little, light himself a smoke, and look outside over the island for the rest of the afternoon, and then on into the evening, while the sky grew progressive shades of dark.

[The door is shut, the post is open. Ooooh. :o]
raspberryturk: (And?)
Reno was looking at the dirty postcard that he had received from Romeo with about as much admiration as agitation.

On one hand, Romeo had pretty sweet taste in women.

On the other hand, the hundred-and-something year old postcard was... a hundred and something years old. Which was going to be problematic, so far as writing Romeo back to thank him for the vintage porn was concerned.

"Say tray jolly yes," Reno decided, butchering the French language as he stood the postcard on his dresser and stepped back to appreciate it. "And so help me, dammit, I'm gonna tell you that to your face, yoto."

[Door's shut, but the post is open like openly open things. Calling all girlfriends, yo.]
raspberryturk: (Faceplanted owie)
Sleep. Sleep was good. There wasn't enough sleep in the world, and Reno and Rikku had been up late-ish last night, and now he appeared to be in the bed alone. Hrm.

Reno patted the mattress beside him. Yep. No Rikku.

Hrm.

He cracked open one eye and looked around the room. Oh, there she was.

"Uh. What'cha doin, zoto?"

[For Rikku, who was moddilymodded with permission, yo.]
raspberryturk: (The Rage!)
Right. Typing up that stupid report for Tseng. Boring, stupid, somewhat distracted report. Things were Not Right On the Island of Fandom. Rikku was worried, and her worry made Reno... uneasy. And Radio had been... off. So Reno's report was far more detached than usual.

Somewhere around halfway through, he heard the announcement.

So his report... )

His laptop threw off a couple sparks from where it sat on the floor across the room.

He sighed, pulled out his phone, and sent a text to Rude. Will be needing new Laptop.

He was going to have to find Rikku.

[Door is closed. Am heading for work shortly, but the post is open if you don't mind insane freaking slowplay that will not be replied to until later tonight.]

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Reno of the Turks

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