"Point taken. Okay, so we just burn shit like this when we can get our mitts on it by questionable means, zoto." He looked back at Smoochy, supervising the burning process. They only wanted to burn the horn, after all. The rest still had to be recognizable as Smoochy, if they were going to proudly present it to the professor.
"Perfect," she decided. "Clearly that means we're going to have to start paying more attention to who has the most cutesy stuff, but that's way better than buying it."
Ino glanced at him. "I think it's just about charred the poor horn to death enough, yeah? What say we stab it a whole bunch of times?"
"I can live with that," Reno agreed, kicking the costume over to kick dirt over the thing's face until the flames died off. "Stabbin' really makes an impression, yo." A pause. "And it's almost as satisfyin' as burnin' the ugly purple mofo, too, yo."
He kicked another clump of dirt at it for good measure.
"It'd be more satisfying if it bled," she said thoughtfully, pulling out a card, charging it, and flicking it so it sank deep into Smoochy's side. "But I guess we can't have everything."
"Sad, ain't it?" Reno pulled out the knife again and buried it to the handle in the end of the costume's still smouldering snout. "Gonna have to go huntin' monsters sometime, back on Gaia. Ain't like there's a shortage of 'em runnin' around, anyhow. You can pretty much just wander around and beat 'em up wholesale, yo."
He tilted his head, poking at the hole in the costume where Ino's card at hit it.
"Sad thing about this guy is, instead of gil or good materia, the only shit he's gonna drop is cotton stuffing."
"Materia?" she asked twirling another card in her hand. "And, ha, you ever want me to come kick monster ass in your world, I'd love to. Mine don't have random monsters like that. Just a good lot of bandits."
Flick and fwup and another card was embedded in Smoochy.
"Materia. Little round spirit glowy magic lifestream marbles that let you customize your weapons an' armor," Reno answered with a shrug. "Some'll let people cast magic- like throwin' fireballs or callin' thunderbolts from the sky. Some'll let you heal yourself, or other people. There's other ones'll let you summon gods for hit-and-run attacks an' shit. You kinda don't just stumble across ones like that outta nowhere, yoto."
He pulled the knife out again, taking a moment to casually pick strands of cotton stuffing from the serrated edge, before going for a belly wound. Nice and deep.
"Smoochies just don't got summon materia on 'em. Cryin' shame, if you ask me."
"Well, kinda," Reno agreed with a shrug. "I mean, you gotta have somethin' to set 'em in, like a slotted weapon or whatever. But I seen kids in the slums usin' this stuff. Just takes a little practice, is all."
A pause as he made a bit of a sawing motion with the knife, working it upward so there was a long, deep slit from Smoochy's bellybutton to around where his throat might be.
"I mean, I wouldn't hand out materia to just anyone. And apparently it takes somethin' outta the planet while you're usin' it. Most people on Gaia are too damn scared to look at 'em anymore. Like everything else we used to live on day-by-day. No more mako-" and that was punctuated by a stab to Smoochy's throat, "- No more materia-" and that was punctuated by a stab to Smoochy's chest, "-And no more ShinRa."
And that last one saw Reno burying the knife in Smoochy's forehead. And leaving it there as he pulled himself to his feet.
Reno glanced at Ino over his shoulder, and then grinned one of those supposed-to-be-dismissive grins of his. The sort that really, really missed its mark.
"I'm no good at pickin' up the pieces, Ino. That's someone else's job. I wreck shit."
"Problem with that," she says, "is that, most of the other worlds, and guessing from you, is that you wind up caring 'bout stuff. Nothing wrong 'bout wrecking shit, 'long as you don't wreck yourself. But apparently wrecking yourself makes the rest of what you've done less bad, or something."
"Just like always," Reno mused under his breath. And then he shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. "So long as I keep gettin' up, none of the rest of it matters anyhow. And, see, now I even got a choice about what I do, to myself or other people or even the whole damn world. That's pretty kickass, if you ask me."
"Last job I went on for the Turks was the last one I'm gonna go on for the Turks. I'm kinda in the market, I guess you'd say."
He was supposed to be doing freelance for Tseng, but, as one could imagine, there weren't many people around Edge and area who could afford to hire ShinRa's former elite to do their dirty work.
"Damn hard to make a livin' outta," Reno agreed, and then shrugged dismissively and bent over to pick up Smoochy's head to inspect their handiwork. "I think it's safe to say our dirty work's done here, Ino. Figure we could probably give him back around the same way we got him, while we know Mom's gonna be occupied elsewhere?"
"Maybe next Monday?" she suggested, stepping over to consider the cards stuck in the tree and deciding that, whatever, she'd just leave them. "Maybe we show up a few minutes late, but Mom'll be there for sure so it's a perfect chance."
"The useful sorta mind games, huh?" Reno glanced sideways at her, curious, and then turned his attention back to the path ahead of them. "Sometimes, the best weapon you got against someone is what's inside their own head. Takes a real artist to be able to pick that apart and make it useful, yo."
"In a way," Ino said, thinking through what he'd said and contemplating ways to explain that wouldn't leave him with the wrong grasp of what she did. "Bit more literal than most people do it."
"Literally?" Reno paused for a moment, stopping to turn to face her. "Okay, now you know I gotta ask you how literal, and what happens when you do it, right?"
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raspberryturk) wrote2008-11-11 08:13 pm
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"Point taken. Okay, so we just burn shit like this when we can get our mitts on it by questionable means, zoto." He looked back at Smoochy, supervising the burning process. They only wanted to burn the horn, after all. The rest still had to be recognizable as Smoochy, if they were going to proudly present it to the professor.
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Ino glanced at him. "I think it's just about charred the poor horn to death enough, yeah? What say we stab it a whole bunch of times?"
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He kicked another clump of dirt at it for good measure.
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He tilted his head, poking at the hole in the costume where Ino's card at hit it.
"Sad thing about this guy is, instead of gil or good materia, the only shit he's gonna drop is cotton stuffing."
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Flick and fwup and another card was embedded in Smoochy.
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He pulled the knife out again, taking a moment to casually pick strands of cotton stuffing from the serrated edge, before going for a belly wound. Nice and deep.
"Smoochies just don't got summon materia on 'em. Cryin' shame, if you ask me."
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A pause as he made a bit of a sawing motion with the knife, working it upward so there was a long, deep slit from Smoochy's bellybutton to around where his throat might be.
"I mean, I wouldn't hand out materia to just anyone. And apparently it takes somethin' outta the planet while you're usin' it. Most people on Gaia are too damn scared to look at 'em anymore. Like everything else we used to live on day-by-day. No more mako-" and that was punctuated by a stab to Smoochy's throat, "- No more materia-" and that was punctuated by a stab to Smoochy's chest, "-And no more ShinRa."
And that last one saw Reno burying the knife in Smoochy's forehead. And leaving it there as he pulled himself to his feet.
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"Geez," she said, voice deliberately light. "Issues, much?"
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"I'm no good at pickin' up the pieces, Ino. That's someone else's job. I wreck shit."
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"Problem with that," she says, "is that, most of the other worlds, and guessing from you, is that you wind up caring 'bout stuff. Nothing wrong 'bout wrecking shit, 'long as you don't wreck yourself. But apparently wrecking yourself makes the rest of what you've done less bad, or something."
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Not that the way he'd tortured Smoochy had been a hint or anything.
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For good measure.
"Last job I went on for the Turks was the last one I'm gonna go on for the Turks. I'm kinda in the market, I guess you'd say."
He was supposed to be doing freelance for Tseng, but, as one could imagine, there weren't many people around Edge and area who could afford to hire ShinRa's former elite to do their dirty work.
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A beat.
"You goin' beat up on the Rhino more, or ought we stash him 'til we're feeling like giving Mom it back."
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"Read my mind," he mused. "Back into my closet with Smoochy's brutalized corpse, then?"
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"In a way," Ino said, thinking through what he'd said and contemplating ways to explain that wouldn't leave him with the wrong grasp of what she did. "Bit more literal than most people do it."
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Curiosity killed the...
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