Reno of the Turks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raspberryturk) wrote2009-02-01 09:40 pm
raspberryturk) wrote2009-02-01 09:40 pm
Entry tags:
Gaia, Sunday, A Wild Chocobo Chase
Sometimes, when a Turk got a mission, it went without a hitch. Sometimes, they would just get out on the field, and they would roll up their sleeves, and the information they were digging for would be right there. Sometimes, the job would practically do itself for them. Now and again, it would be laughable how easily a target could be brought into custody.
And sometimes, they'd find themselves chasing chocobos through the mountains on foot.
"Oh, Ifrit burn it to Hell," Reno cussed, not even bothering to lower his voice as he wiped at the blood trickling from his nose with the cuff of his shirt. He should have seen that coming. It was a giant freaking bird foot to the face, after all. "You're supposed to eat the freakin' greens, you dumbass chicken. They're good friggin' greens! They better be! Cost me enough gil, dammit!"
Hyperion, the prized black chocobo from the Gold Saucer, simply regarded Reno coolly, offered a sneezy sort of snort, and then bent over to nudge at a nearby clump of grass with his beak. He had perfectly good greens right here, thank you very much, he didn't need any of that wilted junk that the stupid guy with the violently red hair was offering.
Not far from where Reno was standing, tied to a tree, the green chocobo that Reno had already managed to capture offered a wark of indignation. He'd much rather have those greens to himself.
Reno was tempted.
He spat out a gob of blood, frowned, and then crouched down low. Fine. If the bird wanted to play dirty, he'd play dirty. He did dirty real good.
Crouch and creep. Crouch and creep. Slow and easy. Careful... Careful... Hyperion was eating from the clump of grass, now was the best time. Closer, just reach out for that harness...
A flash of red, a flash of black, and a very loud, angry "KWEH," and Reno was on the flat of his back with a thoroughly busted nose and a deep, seething hatred for black chocobos.
~~~~
"These are better greens! I freakin' swear it! Now, you gonna play nice, or am I gonna have to start throwin' rocks at you, you stinkin' son of a Deenglow? I got better things I could be doin' right now!"
There was an unceremonious amount of arm-waving, a wad of Krakka greens clenched tightly in hand.
If it wasn't for the yelling, Hyperion would probably have even swallowed his chocobo pride in order to take some and, by extension, allow himself to be captured.
But honestly, this noisy redhead was just being rude.
Which was why, yet again, Reno was on the flat of his back, this time with a mouthful of wingfeathers.
"Stupid freakin' chocobos."
The chocobos that were already tethered to the tree made noises that were somewhat reminiscent of laughter. This was the best show they'd seen in months!
~~~
No more greens.
No more talking.
The kid-gloves were off, and the Sprint Shoes were on.
When you were the fastest Turk, enhanced in the past with a dose of mako, and then trained in the Weirding Way under Lady Ghanima Atreides, Auto-Haste was some sick sort of overkill.
But it was exactly the sick sort of overkill that meant, when Hyperion turned his big feathered ass in the other direction and ran, Reno wasn't just going to be able to keep up with a chocobo moving over 150 km/h, he was going to be able to catch up to him.
Granted, this plan hadn't been thought out too thoroughly.
Which was why, after a few minutes of running neck-in-neck with the racing bird, Hyperion was the first one to actually make a move.
The foot to the shin, in this case, sent Reno careening off-course just enough that he couldn't stop before he smacked face-first into that tree.
Ow.
~~~
Two hi-potions and an ice-pack later, and Reno was at it again. He was a Turk, dammit. And Turks got the job done.
No matter how freaking stupid the job was.
Because they were Turks.
Sprint Shoes? Check. Extra potions? Check. A shiny-green levelled Time Materia installed in Reno's stun baton? Check. Greens? Screw the greens. There was a plan, now. And, granted, the finer points of this plan were mostly along the lines of "don't get your ass kicked by a chicken," but that had always been good enough for Reno, and it always would be.
The harness. Reno was going to reach for the harness. It was right there, taunting him. Like a harness. On a chocobo. A big, black, cocky mofo of a chocobo who was going down. Reno managed to sneak up to the bird, get up almost right behind it, before he took off at another run. And once again, it was a chase. Boy and chocobo. Bird and Turk. And this time, when Reno swung out with his stun baton, it was the spell to cast 'Slow' that was sent out from it instead of the usual array of sparks and pain.
And, while Reno was stuck on haste in the sort of way that made blue video-game hedgehogs look slow, Hyperion the mighty black racing chocobo of the Gold Saucer was left attempting to strut onward at a snail's pace. Really, it was almost a shame to reach out and take the reins while the gallant galliforme attempted to figure out what was going on. But Reno had done far, far more shameful things in the past, and he was on Hyperion's back in no time.
Now... If only the damn bird could head back toward the other chocobos a little faster.
~~~
About an hour of slow-motion chocobo riding later, when Reno's phone beeped with a message from Sokka, that was when Reno started yelling loudly and angrily enough to somehow actually manage to break the Slow spell, and they were off like a rocket.
"I HATE YOU, TSENG. YOU AND YOUR FREAKIN' MISSION! I'M MISSIN' THE HOTTEST SHIT EVER!"
~~~
All things considered, the owner of the Gold Saucer seemed pretty thrilled to get the birds back, and was just about to count out the gil for payment when Reno gave his stun baton a thoughtful tap against his shoulder, held up his free hand and stopped him short.
"How much are these birds really worth to you, yo?"
...
And that was how Reno managed to score a lifetime pass to the Gold Saucer for his girlfriend, at the low cost of his pride.
[NFI unless you want to give a cranky Reno a phone call. NFB for distance. And I'll be back online as per the norm tomorrow unless the internet starts to hate me, folks.]
And sometimes, they'd find themselves chasing chocobos through the mountains on foot.
"Oh, Ifrit burn it to Hell," Reno cussed, not even bothering to lower his voice as he wiped at the blood trickling from his nose with the cuff of his shirt. He should have seen that coming. It was a giant freaking bird foot to the face, after all. "You're supposed to eat the freakin' greens, you dumbass chicken. They're good friggin' greens! They better be! Cost me enough gil, dammit!"
Hyperion, the prized black chocobo from the Gold Saucer, simply regarded Reno coolly, offered a sneezy sort of snort, and then bent over to nudge at a nearby clump of grass with his beak. He had perfectly good greens right here, thank you very much, he didn't need any of that wilted junk that the stupid guy with the violently red hair was offering.
Not far from where Reno was standing, tied to a tree, the green chocobo that Reno had already managed to capture offered a wark of indignation. He'd much rather have those greens to himself.
Reno was tempted.
He spat out a gob of blood, frowned, and then crouched down low. Fine. If the bird wanted to play dirty, he'd play dirty. He did dirty real good.
Crouch and creep. Crouch and creep. Slow and easy. Careful... Careful... Hyperion was eating from the clump of grass, now was the best time. Closer, just reach out for that harness...
A flash of red, a flash of black, and a very loud, angry "KWEH," and Reno was on the flat of his back with a thoroughly busted nose and a deep, seething hatred for black chocobos.
~~~~
"These are better greens! I freakin' swear it! Now, you gonna play nice, or am I gonna have to start throwin' rocks at you, you stinkin' son of a Deenglow? I got better things I could be doin' right now!"
There was an unceremonious amount of arm-waving, a wad of Krakka greens clenched tightly in hand.
If it wasn't for the yelling, Hyperion would probably have even swallowed his chocobo pride in order to take some and, by extension, allow himself to be captured.
But honestly, this noisy redhead was just being rude.
Which was why, yet again, Reno was on the flat of his back, this time with a mouthful of wingfeathers.
"Stupid freakin' chocobos."
The chocobos that were already tethered to the tree made noises that were somewhat reminiscent of laughter. This was the best show they'd seen in months!
~~~
No more greens.
No more talking.
The kid-gloves were off, and the Sprint Shoes were on.
When you were the fastest Turk, enhanced in the past with a dose of mako, and then trained in the Weirding Way under Lady Ghanima Atreides, Auto-Haste was some sick sort of overkill.
But it was exactly the sick sort of overkill that meant, when Hyperion turned his big feathered ass in the other direction and ran, Reno wasn't just going to be able to keep up with a chocobo moving over 150 km/h, he was going to be able to catch up to him.
Granted, this plan hadn't been thought out too thoroughly.
Which was why, after a few minutes of running neck-in-neck with the racing bird, Hyperion was the first one to actually make a move.
The foot to the shin, in this case, sent Reno careening off-course just enough that he couldn't stop before he smacked face-first into that tree.
Ow.
~~~
Two hi-potions and an ice-pack later, and Reno was at it again. He was a Turk, dammit. And Turks got the job done.
No matter how freaking stupid the job was.
Because they were Turks.
Sprint Shoes? Check. Extra potions? Check. A shiny-green levelled Time Materia installed in Reno's stun baton? Check. Greens? Screw the greens. There was a plan, now. And, granted, the finer points of this plan were mostly along the lines of "don't get your ass kicked by a chicken," but that had always been good enough for Reno, and it always would be.
The harness. Reno was going to reach for the harness. It was right there, taunting him. Like a harness. On a chocobo. A big, black, cocky mofo of a chocobo who was going down. Reno managed to sneak up to the bird, get up almost right behind it, before he took off at another run. And once again, it was a chase. Boy and chocobo. Bird and Turk. And this time, when Reno swung out with his stun baton, it was the spell to cast 'Slow' that was sent out from it instead of the usual array of sparks and pain.
And, while Reno was stuck on haste in the sort of way that made blue video-game hedgehogs look slow, Hyperion the mighty black racing chocobo of the Gold Saucer was left attempting to strut onward at a snail's pace. Really, it was almost a shame to reach out and take the reins while the gallant galliforme attempted to figure out what was going on. But Reno had done far, far more shameful things in the past, and he was on Hyperion's back in no time.
Now... If only the damn bird could head back toward the other chocobos a little faster.
~~~
About an hour of slow-motion chocobo riding later, when Reno's phone beeped with a message from Sokka, that was when Reno started yelling loudly and angrily enough to somehow actually manage to break the Slow spell, and they were off like a rocket.
"I HATE YOU, TSENG. YOU AND YOUR FREAKIN' MISSION! I'M MISSIN' THE HOTTEST SHIT EVER!"
~~~
All things considered, the owner of the Gold Saucer seemed pretty thrilled to get the birds back, and was just about to count out the gil for payment when Reno gave his stun baton a thoughtful tap against his shoulder, held up his free hand and stopped him short.
"How much are these birds really worth to you, yo?"
...
And that was how Reno managed to score a lifetime pass to the Gold Saucer for his girlfriend, at the low cost of his pride.
[NFI unless you want to give a cranky Reno a phone call. NFB for distance. And I'll be back online as per the norm tomorrow unless the internet starts to hate me, folks.]