Reno of the Turks (
raspberryturk) wrote2008-01-21 11:45 am
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Room 501, Monday morning-ish
Reno did not want to wake up. Reno was wide awake, laying there in his bed, his face shoved as far into his pillow as he could manage without asphyxiating himself, but this did not yet mean that he had actually woken up.
Between stealing his own wallet, making large areas spontaneously combust in a psychopathic rage, and having casual conversation with a lion over the course of the weekend, he figured that it was well within his rights to not have to wake up just yet.
Also, his hair had been huge. And he'd drank all his own tequila. And waking up meant that he'd have to start on his overdue report to Tseng. And any such report, after this particular sort of weekend, was going to have to begin with, "No, really, boss. I'm not drunk, but..."
Reno hated this place all over again.
[[Open!]]
Between stealing his own wallet, making large areas spontaneously combust in a psychopathic rage, and having casual conversation with a lion over the course of the weekend, he figured that it was well within his rights to not have to wake up just yet.
Also, his hair had been huge. And he'd drank all his own tequila. And waking up meant that he'd have to start on his overdue report to Tseng. And any such report, after this particular sort of weekend, was going to have to begin with, "No, really, boss. I'm not drunk, but..."
Reno hated this place all over again.
[[Open!]]
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"I offered, you said no, I said okay," he replied, "I'm failin' to see how it's really an issue beyond that, zoto." He cocked his head off to the side and smirked, here. "I mean, shit, it's not like anyone's obligated to say yes, here."
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Maybe this time she'd manage to turn on her heel for a dramatic exit? It had kinda failed, the last time.
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"I eat just fine, yo." ... "You talkin' about my ShinRa ID card?"
Reno's identification was really, very not flattering. And slightly outdated.
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No, really.
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Probably a mistake to look down while gesturing, as he was still slouching there, shirtless, pants messy, and she lost her train of thought for a second.
"-- thin now, and you've gotta have twenty or thirty pounds on that picture. Could you count your ribs? Have you heard of sandwiches?"
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It was a very, very not flattering photo.
"Nothin' to worry about anyhow. I'm better now. Eatin' and everything, zoto."
Which, of course, suggested that maybe he hadn't been doing well in the first place. Dammit.
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This life-under-a-huge-plate thing didn't sound like it was for rich people, exactly, so maybe ... uh. Yeah.
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"The pay's just fine," he said, eying her warily. "It's the mako you gotta be careful with, yo."
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She wasn't too sure if this mako was a different street drug or some sort of anti-eating cult, but maybe she should let him talk, this time.
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She... had no idea what he was talking about, did she?
"Think radiation."
Did they have radiation in Spira? Maybe?
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"Isn't that ... kinda like poison, though?" she asked nervously. "Did they ... just, 'here, let's find out if it trashes you or not!' ... Because that's kinda ..."
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No. Really. Small dose. No coma. It was win-win.
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She flushed before leaning back again. "Is ... is that because of the ... the mako thing?"
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He hadn't at all taken advantage of her staring at his eyes in order to get a better look at her Al Bhed swirly-things.
... Maybe he had, actually. It was fortunate that she pulled away. They were kind of oddly hypnotizing.
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"Yep. We're totally good, yoto." And then, because Reno's brain doesn't work nearly as quickly as his mouth, sometimes? "Offer still stands." And a wink.
Why did he throw in the wink? He ought to go back to bed. No. Maybe. No. Why did he wink?
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