raspberryturk | Edge, Friday Afternoon

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Edge, Friday Afternoon

Distress calls from Rookies, left, right, and center. That was what Reno came home to, after over a week without phone reception out in the wastes. And now it was the countdown, before one Rookie would get here, with Ifrit only knew what kind of trauma fresh in her head.

Pick up the phone. Dial numbers. He had well over an hour, between the time Ino's portal would arrive to pick her up, and the time it would actually make it into Edge, after all.

"The boss sends me on one mission in the middle of nowhere, Mako, an' the whole universe goes to Hell without me, zoto."

[NFB for distance, as usual. Open for anyone who needs a Reno call or who wants to give one, all calls will sit chronologically before a certain Ninja visitor, yo.]

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"The kind who's still breathin'," Reno replied, cooly. "That's the best kind. It don't matter who goes down just so long as you don't. That's the job."

It was... cold. Clinical. Maybe a little too much so.

But that was what it was to be a Turk, right there.

"She was a Turk, too," Elena said. "That's what's driving me crazy. We see bad shit all the time. I've had my ass kicked plenty of times before. But my mistake means she's dead, and I'm back here safe and sound like nothing happened. She's the one paying for it."

Welcome to my life, Rookie.

"Maybe after all she went through over there, she earned the vacation time, zoto. Severance package from the Turks sucks, sure, but I hear you get some pretty wicked rest when you retire."

And now he'd slipped right into the black humor portion of the conversation, yes.

He sighed.

"What if it was the other way around? What if it was you, there, in whatever fresh hell you got sent to, an' she crossed over an you wound up dead for it?"

She had to take a few seconds to consider that. Her, struggling in that nightmare world; some other Elena called in for rescue duty.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I'd either be pissed as hell that some moron took the wheel and drove us into a tree, or ... resigned, I guess. Like I'd figure it must have been my time, one way or the other. Maybe a little of both. Maybe the Lifestream makes you too Zen to give a fuck."

It was a fairly effective retirement package. No worries about being called back into active duty, or hunted down like a dog.

"I wouldn't know," Reno noted. "Came damn close to findin' out, way too many times. Early retirement is just another workplace hazard with the Turks. You come to accept that, too."

It kind of sucked when you finally came around to accepting it as fact. But there it was. You join the Turks, you croak way too soon.

"That's the second time now," she noted, idly. "Where I closed my eyes and thought for sure that that was it. Not just, 'the mission's gone bad, I wonder if we're gonna get out of this alive,' but -- fade to black, and when the world comes back into focus, you're confused that it's still there."

She didn't have to tell him when the first time had been. Or ask if he knew what she meant. They were Turks. They'd all walked that line one time or another.

Edited 2009-08-08 00:01 (UTC)

"You don't get used to that part," Reno noted, sighing a little.

Wow. The rookie was having a rough time of it.

"You need anything?"

Elena shook her head. "No, I'm okay."

She had all of her limbs; that qualified as okay. Close enough, all things considered.

Well, maybe not entirely.

"Any advice?" she asked, uncertainly. "For when the liquor doesn't help and sex doesn't seem inviting, either?"

Those were her two favorite distractions, and they were failing her.

"Forgive yourself."

Coming from the guy who had brought down Sector Seven, that was the best advice he could possibly come up with. Liquor and sex hadn't done any good for that one.

"Make up for it."

Elena smiled, softly.

"We're jumping straight to the advanced classes, huh?"

Forgive herself. Make up for it.

Take in the sky.

"Here's where I'd be sendin' you to Caritas on a Wednesday night, but my favorite bartender ain't workin' there no more," Reno mused. "She was a damn good teacher, when it came to that kinda thing."

He craned his head back, thinking it over.

"It hurts. So keep goin'. You think you can't last ten minutes like that, last five. Or one."

"Have you managed it?" she asked. "Forgiving yourself, making up for it?"

There wasn't much of a road-map to go with that. But if you needed someone to hold your hand and walk you through it, then you weren't really doing it yourself anyway.

"I can't never make up for what I did," Reno replied.

You just don't atone for mass-murder.

"But I think I'm breathin' easier right now, knowin' that I'm tryin'. It's too damn easy to get caught up in runnin' in one place, feelin' sorry for yourself. I been there, too."

"No feeling sorry for myself," she said as if she was taking down notes. She was tempted, for that matter. "I've been working on my tan. I'm not sure if that counts as making up for anything, though."

Sorry, Reno just had to chuckle a little, at that.

"There's gotta be somethin' around there you can busy yourself with, yo. I'm pretty sure tannin' don't cut it." He leaned his head back, thinking on it. "Fandom's got them reserves groups. Three of 'em now, ain't it? Could keep busy with that. Or send me seeds an' dirt. I got everyone else sendin' that stuff, too, but you can't have too much dirt in a place like Edge."

Here was where he was sadly tempted to start rambling about agriculture. What the hell, the end of the world had turned him into a farmer.

"Dirt from other places don't need Lifestream to make plants grow. Or maybe it's the plants from other places that don't need Lifestream to grow in the dirt. How frickin' kickass is that?"

Reno needed a straw hat and coveralls.

"You want dirt?" Elena laughed. "I've been sending booze and porn. I didn't think to make it a trifecta with dirt. What kind of plants? Anything edible?"

She stretched out on her bed, watching the ceiling. "I stopped by the reserves-group," she said. "I don't know. I think I've had enough of the military to last me a lifetime. I don't want to go back to drills and salutes."

"If Arthur is makin' people salute out there now, lemmie know so I can portal to Fandom to bitch-smack him, yo."

Salutes. Honestly, now. Reno didn't do any of that march-in-time shit, and he hoped to hell that the reserves hadn't started.

"Dirt's good. Edible plants, good. Somethin' that don't need much sun, if you can swing it. Ino's been sendin' radishes an' peas. I'm so friggin' sick of potatoes, if you send any of them, I'll mail 'em back with explosives taped to 'em."

"That'll be my secret plan to get explosives from you," Elena laughed. "Okay. Edible, no-sunlight plants. I'll see what I can scrounge up. Along with more titty mags and grain alcohol."

The necessities in life.

"I might be ... coming back now and then," she said, trying not to bounce too obviously over that. "For missions, on weekends when I'm not too busy. If you guys need the help."

Still a Turk. It was pretty fucking sweet.

"We need it," Reno replied. There was no pause for consideration there, no. He'd just spent a week and a half out in the freaking wastes. Doing a job that Tseng had sent him on.

And now he was in trouble for it. For fucksakes.

Mostly because Tseng was trying very hard not to admit he'd been worried about her, and Tseng enjoyed taking his issues out on other people. Mostly Reno.

"Then I'm in," she said. "Tseng ... offered."

Tseng was being nice to her. It was weird as hell.

"If it wasn't going to interrupt my studies and all. I said I'd manage. You know how much I'm studying, over here."

"Oh, yeah. Studyin' nice an' hard," Reno laughed. "What's the lesson of the week look like? Brunette? Blond?"

Important studying indeed!

"I had someone feed me strawberries a few days ago," Elena teased. "You know. Studying hard as always. How are the toothless whores around Edge?"

"Just as hard-up for crack as they always were," Reno laughed. "Too cheap for my tastes, though. I'm a fan of the more toothy blondes from Spira, lately."

Monogamy! Woo!

It was adorable. And seriously weird, thinking of Reno like that.

"Has Rude scored that bartender yet?" Elena laughed. "I'd hate to think he's resorting to the crack whores."

"I think he's givin' extra big tips to Titties Lockheart in hopes that she'll notice him," Reno laughed. "It ain't workin'. She's damn hung up over chocobo-hair, yo."

Which was sad, really, because chocobo-hair was an idiot.

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