raspberryturk | Edge, Saturday Afternoon

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Edge, Saturday Afternoon

There were some things that were totally worth getting in trouble with the boss for, Reno decided. Being a grumpy son of a bitch was good for things like getting on Tseng's nerves, teaching the rookie how to run for cover, and also for getting sent on impromptu vacations to other worlds in order to visit the girlfriend.

It had totally been worth it. But, as such things tend to go, this vacation didn't last forever, and soon Reno was hopping another portal back to Edge.

The first thing he did upon getting home was reach for the Everclear that Romeo had sent him. Romeo was still the best buddy ever, and Reno was going to have to find some way to make it up to him. Maybe he'd ship him some porn or something. That was always excellent payback, right?

And then he checked the texts and voicemails that he'd missed lately. Which led to a lot of alternating between laughing and frowning. Killing beans and killing babies were two very different things indeed. But hey, verbal Twitters were amusing, at least.

It wasn't until he went to check on the beans to be certain that they were still alive (they were) and the ferret to make sure that he wasn't dead (he wasn't) that a chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling, hitting Reno solidly on the head and reminding him quite firmly that he wasn't in Spira anymore.

Sigh.

"Home sweet shithole."

[NFB for distance and all, but Reno's open for phone calls, text messages, random letters, and all of that good stuff.]

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She chewed on her lip. "What did--your partner? And the other Turks. What did they say 'bout it?"

"They don't get a say," Reno replied. "Any more'n I do. If I said no, it would'a been one of them doin' it instead, after killin' me. Tseng keeps his mouth shut. Tseng's got tact. Rude just... kinda knows better'n to push. I ain't the sort to really give heart-to-hearts about that shit on a regular basis."

A pause.

"Rude bought me a lot of booze for a while there. Rude's the best partner ever, yo."

"Sounds like it," she agreed, leaning back in her chair. "I don't know, you know? It helps that it happened days ago now, but there's no one really to talk to here 'bout stuff like that..."

"Word of advice," Reno said, after another long moment of pondering the ceiling and then a thoughtful reach for his booze. "Get used to that. It sucks. Fuck, does it ever suck. But that's just the way things are. On Fandom and offa it, yoto."

Mmm. Everclear. Okay, he was good.

"That said, you can message me whenever, okay? No tellin' when I'll get that message, knowin' the way things are? But I've been there. Done that. An' I got an ear for listenin' with, too."

He always had an ear for his rookies.

She smiled faintly. "I'm not used to it sucking so much as you'd be," Ino said, "my world, in a ninja village, most everyone thinks like you and me do--the civilians not so much, but even then, if they didn't get it, they wouldn't last in a ninja village. I guess, I just--you get it."

Ino tugged at her hair. "You get it, and get the problems they've got too, I mean the civilians here. I don't know if I could explain it so well back home. So, I guess, thanks?"

"Anytime." He meant that, too. It wasn't loaded in the least. It was just Reno, offering that understanding ear when someone needed it. He'd do the same for someone on the other side of the situation, too, if they were actually trying to understand.

He was so much more of a bleeding heart that he'd ever admit.

"You see people on all ends of the spectrum around here," he added. "And you get to see it from all angles, too, when the world falls down an' leaves everyone on even ground. So I guess I'm kinda the professional in that department, like it or not, huh?"

"Like it or not," she echoed. "That's one way to live, I guess."

She shook her head.

"It hasn't been all bad, the week though," Ino continued. "'Cause I don't want you thinking I've been hanging around emo-ing and writing depressive poetry."

"Somehow, I can't picture you writin' any depressing poems," Reno laughed. "They'd all have to be, like, shitty limerick or somethin'."

Yep. He knew what limerick was. They were the only poems that Reno had ever really mastered, for purposes of sharing in drunken moments with the other Turks.

There once was a man from Mideel...

"Ewww. I'll have you know I can do poetry, though I was never very good at that bit of culture class in the Academy." Ewwww. "Though limericks weren't big. Think haiku and crap. Thrilling stuff."

"I ain't so great with haiku," Reno noted, "after that one time that Fandom had me speakin' and thinkin' in it, yoto."

It was Fandom. That sentence was not weird in the least, damn it.

"At least you weren't singing?" she teased. "Ugh. Singing."

"Did that tooooo," Reno singsonged, and then he laughed. "On the friggin' radio, even. With Jenny."

That had been one hell of a broadcast, damn it.

She laughed. "'Least you didn't have people gawking at you?"

"They were probably gawkin' at the radio, anyhow." Reno smirked faintly. "That was an interestin' day, yoto. I think I had a waltz or somethin' with Rikku, too."

"But that's cute!" she said, tapping her pen against her cheek. "I mean, that could even be romantic."

"We have our moments," Reno noted, and now he was grinning. "But she an' I weren't even datin' yet, at that point."

A pause. A very thoughtful one.

"I ain't certain where the random ball gown she was wearin' came from for that musical number, though. Fandom, huh."

"Fandom had killer alligators," she said, "I think a gown is probably easier for it to get, somehow. Maybe it's psychic?"

"Dinah mentioned the gators in a voicemail," Reno noted. "That ain't even friggin' fair. The island saved all the fun shit until I went home?"

Meeeean.

Ino giggled. "Maybe it's the island's way of saying 'wish you were here?', they were pretty awesome. I got to blow a whole bunch up."

"Sounds like fun," Reno decided, pouting anyhow. "We got boundfats an' bat-eyes an' crap like that around here. Bunch'a friggin' one-hits for a guy like me. But easy gil, at least. I guess I can't complain. Tell me the gators at least dropped some interestin' stuff when you killed 'em?"

Hey. A guy could dream.

"Surely there's still some stuff that's not just one hit for you? I wish," she said. "'Less you're counting guts and gore and them spitting projectile fish at us, nope nothing interesting."

Which was a shame.

"Wait, projectile fish?" Oh, now Reno was really sorry that he'd missed that. No fair! "Sure there are some things that ain't one-hits for me, but they ain't livin' around Midgar. Lady Ghanima trained me good. If I want a challenge, it's gonna either be from an import, some kinda extra freaky mutation that crawled outta one of the reactors, or I'm gonna have to travel to find it, zoto."

"Projectile fish!" she repeated, grinning.

A beat.

"On one hand," Ino mused, "you could say that's a good thing--makes it easier to help keep it safe for people, yeah? If you're so good."

"Yeah. Keeps me busy, anyhow. The wastelands are crawlin' in junk like that. Always have been, but now it's more obvious, since people can't just drive to wherever they wanna go."

Granted, there weren't many monsters that could catch up to a chocobo at full run, anyhow.

"You don't sound thrilled," she commented idly.

Edge, Saturday Afternoon

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