raspberryturk | Room 504, The Arms Hotel, Friday Evening

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Room 504, The Arms Hotel, Friday Evening

Damn, it was good to be on the island.

Daaaaaaaamn, it was so good to be on the island. And sure, the room he'd grabbed at The Arms wasn't his dorm room, but he had a real, honest-to-gods bed here, instead of the lumpy couch Reno had been sleeping on for the past little while, and that alone made the whole trip worth it.

Well, the bed and the minibar. He was going to have to coordinate some kind of drinking outing with the guys before he took off again, maybe. In the meantime, he'd pick up his cellphone and leave some ~~handwavey~~ messages telling his buddies on the island where he could be found.

And then? Then he was going to flop backward on that amazing friggin' bed and just sprawl.

Oh, hell yeah.

[Door's open, and if you figure you'd get a call, you totally did. Mmmm, feels like home.]

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Now there was a sight for sore eyes!

"It was assigned to me," Reno laughed, sitting up. Lots of sitting up, today. He'd have to jjust quite laying down. "I ain't sure if the Administration wants grads who've already left to crash in the dorms or not, so I figured this'd be a safer bet than gettin' tossed out on my ass, yo. How've you been, Romeo, my man?"

"Packing, mostly. Doing last things -- I gave your radio cohost the shop and I've been trying to visit places. I leave Monday."

A cloud passed over Romeo's face, but quickly dissipated as he flopped onto the bed.

"How have you been? Has Rude kicked you out yet?"

Tick. Tock. Reno totally knew how that felt. He'd been there and done it already, after all.

"I ain't been too bad. Startin' to schmooze with the rookie some more. Might take her to Tifa's bar sometime, see if we can figure out if Rude's got a snowball's chance in hell of gettin' up close an' personal with her, or if her an' her tits are property of the emo kid with the chocobo hair, yo."

Edited 2009-06-27 00:04 (UTC)

Been there, done that -- was there a t-shirt?

"Tell me about chocobo hair or I'll imagine a bird on his head," Romeo said lazily. "Do you think she would go for Rude, if she's not taken?"

"Tifa? Yeah, maybe she would. Hard to say, yo. Rude's had a crush on her for years, now." Reno stretched, and then stood and ambled his way over to the minibar. Hell yeah, minibar. "I'm talkin' about Cloud when I talk about chocobo hair, yo. Kinda looks like it, don't it? That whiny guy that did the big damage against the silver-haired mofo back in Edge?"

Totally chocobo hair.

"Uh-huh," Romeo agreed. "He looks exactly like a chocobo."

He didn't really remember, but it felt like the kind of thing he should agree on. "So Rude wants Tifa, not the rookie? I think I got confused."

Romeo Montague: Totally a teenage girl.

Reno of the Turks: Totally a gossip. It worked nicely!

"Rude wants Tifa, Tifa wants Cloud, the Rookie wants Tseng," Reno replied with a laugh. "Tseng wants the ancient girl- dead. Or maybe some SOLDIER kid from back when."

Also dead.

"The Ancient was hooked up with the SOLDIER, and then she almost hooked up with Cloud, who thought he was the SOLDIER at the time anyhow. Got it memorized, yo?"

"I might. The ancient got around, and no one else is getting any at all?" Romeo asked. "Except you, of course. Is Rikku coming to the dance?"

"That's a out it, an' I hope so," Reno smirked. "She's been goin' nuts on Spira, runnin' around and tryin' to keep the peace. I think she needs the vacation more'n I do, honestly."

"So growing beans isn't enough to fill your days?" Romeo asked, albeit with some concern under his casual tone. He knew things on Gaia weren't precisely good, either. "I'm glad she's here too. We'll have to dance, tomorrow."

"The beans are plenty, when coupled with the monsters an' the paperwork," Reno sighed. That was not the sigh of a guy who was particularly overwhelmed by excitement, really. Paperwork and beans were both pretty boring. "Lookin' forward to that dance. Thinkin' about maybe grabbin' some people for a night out drinkin'. One last big fling before we all head our separate ways again, zoto."

"I would like that," Romeo said. "Yurika and I wanted a going away party, but we never managed the planning. A night out would be simpler."

He tilted his head to Reno, considering. "Tonight? Or tomorrow after the dance?"

"After the dance sounds kickass," Reno decided. "Gives me a chance to get over the jetlag, yo. An' anyhow, if we get an early start by spikin' the punch at the dance- because it's tradition and you know we gotta- we can just keep goin' afterward. It'll be kickass!"

"I'll still be drunk when our portal comes on Monday," Romeo decided. "You're the smartest person in the world. I can only be honored to be in your presence."

"And I wouldn't think of going to the dance without a flask."

Well, Reno certainly wasn't going to deny his intellectual superiority, even if he couldn't spell the words.

"We make good partners-in-crime," he chuckled, rummaging through the minibar and finally settling on two of those travel-sized bottles of Vodka.

Niiiice.

He tossed one at Romeo, and winked. "I ain't the only brains in this operation, anyhow."

Spelling was overrated. Romeo caught the bottle one-handed, then sat up just enough to throw back the vodka.

"Together we could conquer the world," he said. "Though ... tonight I'm not in the mood. Tonight I want to talk to you. And drink vodka." Thinking about it, he added, "I keep drinking this week."

"Bad week?" Reno could imagine. Leaving on Monday?

He was pretty sure he'd spent a lot of his last week in a drunken haze too, hadn't he?

Leaving. Leaving sucked.

"Actually not ... as bad as it could be?" Romeo said. Mostly because he wasn't letting himself think about it. "But it was my last week at work, so I had to sample the bottles under the counter, then I took Jenny out to convince her to take the job, then I was packing up my room and -- I had more liquor than I thought I did."

"Man, you're startin' to sound like me," Reno whistled, and then he ambled over to take a seat on the edge of the bed again. "An' then more tonight, an' tomorrow, huh?"

He wasn't going to be hypocritical and chastise Romeo for his drinking or anything, here. He was going to just mull it over for a moment before he said anything else.

"How you figure things are gonna be in Tokyo?"

"I am, aren't I?" Romeo said with a bittersweet smile. "I was thinking about growing a ponytail."

He shrugged a little. "I don't know. I have a month before my classes start. I might go to her father's offices and see if they'll find a way to make the gaijin useful."

"You probably couldn't pull off a ponytail. Ain't nothin' personal, man. A ponytail just ain't Romeo."

Reno took his two mouthfuls of vodka and then frowned at the empty bottle. Oh, this minibar thing was going to get expensive.

"Offer to run for coffee or somethin'. They drink coffee in Tokyo, don't they? Or is it all tea? It's mostly tea in Wutai. An' good booze. Think they'd appreciate a guy doin' booze runs for the office staff or whatever?"

He was so helpful.

Romeo made a face. "Bite your tongue. I'd look fine with a ponytail. It'd keep my hair out of my face for once."

A different haircut would also do that, but haircuts weren't Romeo.

"I think I could get Yurika in trouble if I offered booze runs," he added, though the look on his face suggested he was considering it.

"It'd keep things interesting," Reno noted with a laugh. "Better stick with coffee. Irished up."

He'd totally learned what that meant while he was in school, here. People back in Edge had no freaking clue what he meant when he said that phrase, sadly.

"But, uh, buy the coffee from somewhere."

Reno remembered Romeo's coffee.

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Room 504, The Arms Hotel, Friday Evening

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