raspberryturk | Edge, Friday Evening

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Edge, Friday Evening

It was one of those rare nights that Reno had managed to score all to himself, off-duty, with not a single reason to worry about Tseng calling him in out of the blue to do some urgent mission or another. Why? Because Rude had the night off, too, and Tseng knew better than to try to call Reno in when Rude would do the job just as well, and without whining about it.

And so, there he was, sprawled backwards on the couch (and doing an admirable job of ignoring the busted springs in his back) and staring up at the ceiling, contemplating where in the world he was supposed to go from here and the obstacles on his way to wherever that turned out to be.

"Winter's coming, yo." He paused, and then, with a faint smirk on his lips, he added, "Fehdan'c lusehk."

At the very least, it wasn't as though he'd be making the trip alone.

[For that girl who speaks the funny language. And sure, open for phone calls or whatever, if you'd like.]

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"I shouldn't poke at you about it so often," Romeo said, more serious this time. "The things I send -- I know it's not enough to feed everyone, but do they help at all?"

"... Romeo, man. If you ever got to see the look on the faces of these kids when I hand 'em a pack of noodles that cost you a quarter at the dollar store, you'd damn near cry, I promise you that."

Reno nearly did.

Reno.

"I mean, it's nothin' more than a temporary fix, but if temporary fixes mean that they're gonna be able to go to sleep not hungry tonight, I'll take it until I can figure out somethin' more permanent."

Edited 2009-11-28 03:44 (UTC)

"... god damn it, Reno, you have me thinking I ought to go there and help you." Romeo was picking at some lose threads on his jeans. "I wanted to be a priest, when I was younger. This would mean more."

Reno was torn between laughing and apologizing, at that.

"You got your own life on the go, man. You an' Doji, right? I mean, if I can figure out ways to get somethin' set up, at least to make jobs for the locals, would you be opposed to me callin' you in for a few days to help set somethin' up? Jobs mean food too, yoto."

Reno had a job. His was... possibly not the most productive, forward-thinking career in Edge.

"Jobs mean food," Romeo repeated. "Well, that's easier than taking vows." And less deleterious to his life with Dojima. "And no, not opposed at all. You know I have money, and I can get more. My father loves being seen as charitable."

Reno's lopsided grin was possibly almost audible in his voice when he spoke next.

"Money ain't entirely the issue," Reno mused. "People want an economy that can sustain itself. Transportation, some way of gettin' food in, an education for their kids. Maybe somewhere for kids who ain't got family left to go so they can get all the same. It's the gettin' it all started that takes money, zoto. From there, it's all about effort."

Romeo was thinking far harder than he normally did, and it took him a long moment to speak. "What if my family paid for space and supplies to train teachers for the children?" he asked. "Teaching is a job as well, and if it advanced the Montague name we could do it."

"Would it advance the Montague name?" Reno pursed his lips a little. "It'd be on a different world, man. Verona isn't gonna see the results so much, I don't think."

And at the same time, wow, that would have been awesome.

"Ah, but that would be details," Romeo said, half-playful. "The question is if I can convince my father he wants to support the training of teachers in a developing country, purely to feed his hungry ego. I would wager I could."

Reno was now tapping his foot against the wall, eyebrows raised, thinking over the possibilities, there.

"... Think we could set your old man up in negotiations with Reeve Tuesti, the brains behind the World Regenesis Organization? I mean, if you figure ego'd be enough to figure into it, Reeve would be the guy to talk to, yo. He's sorta... the one in charge of damn near everything, so long as it involves puttin' the world back together, zoto."

Even if Reeve did have a weird fetish for anthropomorphic cat dolls.

"We could try," Romeo said. "Can Reeve talk around religious differences?"

Charity was Godly, but charity that helped Catholics, or Catholics to be, would be a lot easier to sell.

Reno frowned a little at that.

"Religious differences how? I mean, I got no doubt the guy can use tact, if that's what you mean. He was head of city planning for ShinRa back when Midgar was still standin', yo."

It was more that, well, Reno didn't have the slightest clue where to start figuring out religion. It hadn't exactly done him any favors, over the years. And religions on other planets weren't likely to be anything similar to the ones on his own.

"Tact will help," Romeo reassured him. "My father will want to talk about priests. If he can nod and sound reassuring, it would help."

He frowned into the phone. His father calling someone wasn't really what he had in mind. "Is there anything I can do while we wait on my father and Reeve?"

Reno leaned his head back and wriggled around a bit, trying to dislodge a spring from his shoulder. Stupid couch, anyhow.

"The question is more, what isn't there to do?" He sighed. "Helps that people ain't sick in the streets of the stigma no more, at least. We probably need hospitals anyhow. Rikku managed to get the WRO to slap together a vehicle that runs on ethanol, but we can't afford to give up food here for the sake of gettin' 'em to run, and I ain't no politician, so I gotta figure out if there's anyone who can set up decent trade routes with someplace that can..."

Reno could go on all day about the things that needed doing.

The things that he was actually capable of, on the other hand, were somewhat on the limited side.

"Limit thyself to things I might do in Tokyo," Romeo suggested, as the things he was capable of were even more limited. "I can send things, I can buy things, I could ... possibly get people in Midgar to do my classwork..."

Reno gave a little snort, at that.

"I think they'd appreciate things bein' bought more'n gettin' the unique opportunity to do your homework for you," he pointed out. "But if you feel like you gotta buy things... Books. How-to manuals, for... I dunno. Construction, maybe. Or books on law. Edge needs laws that are totally different from the shit that ShinRa came up with. American laws might be a good place to start."

Not that they'd grab on and take off with a gusto, but the least he could do would be leave it on Reeve's desk and hope that it would be flipped through, at least once.

Edited 2009-11-28 06:00 (UTC)

"My homework is a growth industry," Romeo said, mock self-importantly. "I'll put law books and books on the trades into my next box for you, though."

"I appreciate it," Reno chuckled. "Mechanics, too, stuff like that. Any sorta shit that'll come in handy if you toss it at a bunch'a guys who went from sittin' at a desk for a livin' to watchin' the world fall down."

A pause.

"I think about the only guy in Edge who can get away with sittin' at a friggin' desk now is Tseng."

Reno did not envy Tseng his job in the least.

Nor did Romeo. "I wouldn't want to sit at a desk, if it meant being Tseng."

"I gotta say, man, I hope Tseng lives forever. Because I'm the next in line for his job."

Do. Not. Want.

"I'll pray for his health each night," Romeo promised. "Rude couldn't take it...?"

"That'd make me the shittiest partner ever, man, fobbin' that off on Rude."

And anyhow, it would be difficult for Rude to give orders, if Rude refused to speak in order to do so. Which wouldn't be a problem for Reno, but Elena wasn't a mind-reader, right? Right.

"Nah. If I get it, I got it. I just got no clue what I'd do with it, yo."

"He'd be just as bad a partner for fobbing it off on you," Romeo said. "If it came, I would have faith in you. You would do what you had to. You would do your best."

"Eh, I couldn't hold it against Rude, anyhow. I got the rank, yo. Bein' Tseng's second-in-command kinda means it's on my head, anyhow." Reno shrugged, even if that gesture wasn't audible over the phone. "Whatever the case might be, I guess I'd do the job. Done it before when we thought the Director was dead, after all."

Twice, now. Tseng did that 'probably dead' thing entirely too often.

"There's somethin' else to add to the list, man. 'Runnin' a Trio of Misplaced Almost-Mercs. For Dummies.'"

They totally had that book out there somewhere, right?

Edited 2009-11-28 06:58 (UTC)

"I might have to order that from the Internet," Romeo said.

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raspberryturk - 2009-11-28 18:51 (UTC) - Expand

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