Reno of the Turks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raspberryturk) wrote2010-02-10 07:17 pm
raspberryturk) wrote2010-02-10 07:17 pm
Entry tags:
The Seventh Heaven Bar, Edge, Wednesday Night
Admittedly, a Wednesday night was a pretty shitty night to go to any bar that didn't actually have something going on. And, in a place like Edge, it wasn't just Wednesday nights that were like that, even at the most popular stop for alcoholic swill in town. It wasn't as though people were going to get together and sing karaoke. Name that tune was pretty much a thing of the past, too. Trivia night? Not so much. But if you got Cid Highwind drunk enough, he'd tell you all about that time he spent about five minutes stuck outside of Gaia's atmosphere.
Word to the wise: Don't get Cid Highwind drunk enough to tell you all about that time he spent about five minutes stuck outside of Gaia's atmosphere.
Fortunately, Reno didn't come to the bar unprepared. He was a Turk. He came prepared for anything, thank you very much. There was a stun baton hidden up his sleeve, extra money for booze tucked away in one pocket, and a deck of cards in one hand. Tifa even tolerated his presence here because he was more or less good business, and he tended to handle her cutting him off when she'd decided that he'd had enough with... minimal leering. Which made him significantly less obnoxious than some of the folks that stopped in for drinks.
And anyhow, kicking the asses of the bar's other regulars at poker? Totally made hitting this place up on his evening off worth any unpleasant aftertaste that his allotted few servings of Corel Ale left behind.
Hey, it wasn't Reno's fault that Barrett was shit at calling bluffs.
[Open for anyone who might want to give Reno a phone call, or what-have-you. He'll probably gloat at you relentlessly, just to rile up the big guy some more.]
Word to the wise: Don't get Cid Highwind drunk enough to tell you all about that time he spent about five minutes stuck outside of Gaia's atmosphere.
Fortunately, Reno didn't come to the bar unprepared. He was a Turk. He came prepared for anything, thank you very much. There was a stun baton hidden up his sleeve, extra money for booze tucked away in one pocket, and a deck of cards in one hand. Tifa even tolerated his presence here because he was more or less good business, and he tended to handle her cutting him off when she'd decided that he'd had enough with... minimal leering. Which made him significantly less obnoxious than some of the folks that stopped in for drinks.
And anyhow, kicking the asses of the bar's other regulars at poker? Totally made hitting this place up on his evening off worth any unpleasant aftertaste that his allotted few servings of Corel Ale left behind.
Hey, it wasn't Reno's fault that Barrett was shit at calling bluffs.
[Open for anyone who might want to give Reno a phone call, or what-have-you. He'll probably gloat at you relentlessly, just to rile up the big guy some more.]
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Although, she had to admit, his handwriting was much better. Amazing what a little lesbian porn could do.
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"Yo," Reno carolled as he answered the phone. Barrett had just folded his hand, and Cid had decided that he was going to need a break in order to go take a piss. The Rookie's phone call had come at a good time. "How's my favorite supplier of smutty videos of naked chicks rubbin' their tits on one another tonight?"
Tifa was going to give Reno one of those looks from across the bar that was intended to remind him to not crow about lesbian pornography too loudly while Marlene was still helping her run drinks around to the patrons.
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Sure, he could order it, but maybe having hot girls actually mail it to him was an added thrill. Also, you know, she was paying for it, so.
"You know, reports go so much faster when you use actual words, and not just scrawls and dashes? It's unreal."
Not that she'd increased her weekly turnout any. Tseng would have gotten suspicious, and besides, she liked her free time.
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Really, money wasn't an issue so long as there were monster runs to be made and he was working under Tseng and kicking ass at poker at the bar on a semi-regular basis. But importing decent porn and booze from another universe was so much more awesome when it was on the Rookie's gil, wasn't it?
"You gotta work your way up to paragraph breaks, though."
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Okay, so she was bored.
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And then he was going to yell.
"Inspiration!"
The world as they knew it was probably pretty much doomed, now.
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"Not together," she insisted. With little hope of salvaging this. At all. "It loses something if you're trying to put your ballsack on Tseng."
Also, Tseng carried a gun.
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Look, it had been a wild night. There had been drinking. Teabagging had seemed like a funny idea at the time.
He sat down again. Barrett shifted his weight and pretended that he hadn't been surprised at all, thank you very much.
"Nah, my inspiration is better."
Be afraid, Elena. Be very afraid.
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"You're on your own, for this one," she said. "You drag me into it when Tseng tries to set you on fire, and there won't be any more porn."
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No, he wouldn't. Because it wouldn't happen. Probably.
He hoped.
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What? He was allowed!
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Yes, even Reno had thoughtful moments.
Occasionally.
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He had to know she'd ask. Besides, she missed office gossip.
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This, of course, was because there were two Turks doing the work of... Somewhere around thirteen. Even Reno couldn't be everywhere at once.
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Some days, she wasn't even sure she wanted to go back.
The snow was getting to her, dammit.
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Reno sighed.
"We should just move the Turks to the freakin' island, yo."
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Not many. She belonged back home, and she knew it.
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