Reno of the Turks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raspberryturk) wrote2009-05-24 02:22 pm
raspberryturk) wrote2009-05-24 02:22 pm
Edge, Saturday Afternoon
It was a good thing that Bat Eyes were so damn easy to take down, Reno mused, as he wiped some bloody monster sludge off of his baton and onto his pant leg. Things had been busy in Edge over the past few days. A few monsters had wandered into the outskirts of the town out of the ruins of what used to be the Midgar slums, and they were having their hungry ways with the locals.
Which suited Reno just fine. He got the pleasure of being hired on by the WRO in order to take care of the threat while they continued working on setting up their military, and on top of the pay that they were giving him to deal with the job, he got to keep whatever the monsters dropped when he took them down, too. Mostly ethers and bubblegum money, but he could live with that.
He finished rummaging through what was left of the corpse of the last one as it faded away to join the lifestream, or whatever it was that dead monsters did, and then he took a seat on the nearest bench, sprawling out, looking up at the bluish-gray haze of sky above him, pulling out his phone, and turning it on.
Sometimes, rebuilding wasn't really so bad after all.
[For anybody who wants to phone or be phoned! NFB for distance, of course! Zack-related spoilers throughout the threads. Read at your own risk, yo.]
Which suited Reno just fine. He got the pleasure of being hired on by the WRO in order to take care of the threat while they continued working on setting up their military, and on top of the pay that they were giving him to deal with the job, he got to keep whatever the monsters dropped when he took them down, too. Mostly ethers and bubblegum money, but he could live with that.
He finished rummaging through what was left of the corpse of the last one as it faded away to join the lifestream, or whatever it was that dead monsters did, and then he took a seat on the nearest bench, sprawling out, looking up at the bluish-gray haze of sky above him, pulling out his phone, and turning it on.
Sometimes, rebuilding wasn't really so bad after all.
[For anybody who wants to phone or be phoned! NFB for distance, of course! Zack-related spoilers throughout the threads. Read at your own risk, yo.]
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Or, worse, he would realize that he shouldn't, and leave Zack be. Let Zack traipse off unknowingly to his death. Add even more guilt to what he was carrying. It was unfair to do to him.
It would weigh heavily on her, not telling him, but she'd rather carry that sin than foist it onto him.
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There was a long, pained pause, there.
"Maybe not. That's what fuckin' kills me, here. The kid's alive. He's still a 2nd. We could save him. But it's too damn risky. And if Tseng ever finds out...?"
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Elena wasn't sure Midgar had the right to be saved, but that sounded like treason, so it was better left unsaid. She sat heavily onto the bench, putting her head in her hands.
"We have no right," she said. "No right to interfere, no right to let him die, no right to save his life, no right to warn him. And if Tseng finds out, he'll hate us both."
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He meant that lovingly, really.
"Fuckin' Fandom."
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She thought for a moment of Rosalind, the perfect, goody-goody sister she could never live up to. What would she have done?
Easy. Rosalind would have gone straight to Tseng. Tseng had a right to know and decide for himself. Tseng was the Director, and deserved all relevant information. Rosalind always followed the rules, no matter how hard the outcome.
Elena wondered, for the very first time, if she was a better Turk than her dead sister.
"I'd rather he hates us than himself," she said carefully. If Reno wanted to laugh at her for it, he could. It sounded ridiculous, out loud like that.
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Tseng had been damn sure that the Turks could make it there, first.
The infantry's choppers had made it there, first. That much ate at Reno, still. He was the pilot, damn it. He didn't make it.
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Reno had been flying over a barren desert wasteland, looking for something that didn't want to be found. But then, all of the Turks had blamed themselves, for what happened to Zack.
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Aerith had been a shock. Aerith hadn't been a crashing failure and a race against the clock.
"There ain't many people I think Tseng has actually been able to consider a friend, yoto. Sure, he cared for that Ancient a lot, but he actually got to talk to Zack."
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It really was Tseng's hobby in life. She would hardly be surprised if he kept some sort of a whip in his desk, just for self-flagellation of the decidedly not-kinky variety.
"He doesn't have many friends, does he? He holds himself off from us, as the Director. And the Ancient, he ... cared for her, but you're right, that's not entirely the same."
'Cared for' was easier than talking about how Tseng had loved Aerith, for reasons that were entirely personal and that Reno should not tease her about.
"Do you think he talks to Rufus?"
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"Talks to Rufus? What, like, personal conversations an' junk?"
Some little piece of Reno's brain was kind of fraying at the thought.
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He was staring at her, in horror, and her own mind went to very scary places.
"You don't think ......"
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Oh. Oh, ow, Reno's brain. Reno's friggin' brain.
"I think if the two of them ever got together, Meteor and Holy would combine forces to put an end to it all, right then and there, yoto."
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He was always angsting after someone or other. The Ancient was dead, which made her perfectly unattainable and therefore safe, so it might still be her. Or maybe he had moved on to Rufus. No one had bothered to tell her. She asked, occasionally, and usually got strange looks for it. Bastards.
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"I'm pretty sure that Tseng would sooner light his own face on fire than sleep with Rufus, though."
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"I'll keep that in mind," Reno replied, dryly. "You know, maybe he ain't such a sucker for punishment as you figure he is, Elena. He's just doin' his job."
No, Reno had never in his entire life figured that he'd be defending the Director to the Rookie.
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"He did make a friend, zoto. He was a damn good friend, too. And we didn't find him fast enough, an' now he's takin' classes at Fandom. I don't think Tseng even knows how, otherwise."
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It could be the four of them, drinking and carousing and fraternizing. Turks against the world.
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"He ain't Verdot. He's tryin' to be. An' then Verdot ran off, and left us under Tseng's care, an' then most of us died overnight. I can't imagine where my head would be if I was in his shoes. I don't want that job. But I wouldn't wish it on nobody else, either."
Such was the pit-of-the-gut fear of Tseng's second. Tseng could be a hardass all he wanted, just so long as he didn't bump off and leave Reno with that responsibility. Ever.
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Mainly because she had gotten kidnapped like the idiotic little tag-along that Rosalind always said she was. Elena wondered, not for the first time, if they had only made her a Turk because she knew too much, and it was either that or kill her.
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Tseng's voice, bored, from somewhere on her left. You'll kill her. Begging herself not to scream. She closed her eyes against a flood of memories.
"They kept us together," she said, her voice weary in her own ears. She didn't have to say when, did she?
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"They would." A beat. "You two came back from the dead."
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"It's kind of weird, talking to you like this. I mean, it's nice, but it's weird."
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