raspberryturk | Office Hours, Saturday

So, Reno was perhaps dimly aware, after an evening spent dealing with every incarnation of every Turk he'd ever known to set foot on the island, that another point of this Parenty... Weekendish... thing was so that the folks (or annoying employers, as he'd had checking up on him while he was a student here) of the students could talk to the teachers, or some crap like that.

Which was why by some miracle, he'd managed to drag his ass out of bed and, after leaving a note for Rikku and Rude that he was going to be doing things that kind of resembled work, he shuffled his way to his office.

... Oh, so that was what his office looked like. Huh. Better than the one he'd had with the Turks. Maybe he'd have to start spending more time in this thing. But for now, he'd worry about what the hell he was supposed to tell any parents who wanted to talk to him about what the hell that 'Doomsday' and 'Rookiehood' and 'Unconventional Tactics' junk was supposed to mean.

There wasn't enough rum in his coffee for this.

[Open to visitors and students and whatever the heck!]

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"I think I get only the highlights," Luke replied with a small smile. "The 'I'm totally fine, ignore the new bruises, here's the funny story' part of the island."

"Par for the course," Reno mused, looking thoughtfully into his coffee mug for a moment before just shrugging his shoulders a bit.

"I've seen him pull his shit together under pressure before," he noted, "and I was damn impressed when he did. He's a good kid, I can't say that enough, and I get the feeling that he thinks he's got a long way to go before he's where he wants to be, but from what I seen, when he needs to be there, he is."

Luke nodded. "I agree. Our family, back home, casts a rather long shadow, and Ben is still finding his way so he can discover how he will join it."

Luke had hopes of Ben eventually following him as Jedi Grand Master, but he wasn't sharing that with anyone.

Hey, if Reno had any idea, at least he'd understand just why Ben seemed to look so much like he had something huge to measure up to, so often. His knowledge of the Skywalker clan was pretty touch-and-go, generally.

"Eh, he's still young yet, and bein' so far away from home like this is rough sometimes," he mused. "At least around here, he's got the chance to figure out who he is for himself, yo. Or, at least I'm hopin' he does. I know he's got plenty of family floatin' around here, too."

Luke nodded. "That puts a different type of pressure on him," he said. "He's the furthest end of the timeline and he's rather inclined to keep things bottled up inside in general, but every now and then I get a garbled and panicked call from him as he worries about ruining everything for everyone inadvertently."

"You know, I think givin' a damn about it is half the battle," Reno replied. And there was a sigh in there somewhere, because... hey, if it was that easy, then he was all set himself with those timeline troubles, wasn't he? "I can try an' keep an eye on him, see if I can spot when his head ain't screwed on okay, but he's the kinda kid who don't let that show so well, either. I know the type."

He was the type. This place was full of the type.

[So sorry! Radio went NOM NOM NOM. SP?]

"Most of Ben's friends also seem like the type," Luke said with a tiny smile. "I don't know if it's because he's drawn to them, or it's the majority of the school."

"Little from Column A, little from Column B, I'm gonna guess," Reno drawled, picking up his coffee mug and raising it in the air. "An' it takes one to know one, yo. No kid who ain't never had it rough is gonna sit around pickin' out the fakers around here. They ain't got no damn clue what they're lookin' for. But the ones that are broken, even if it's just a little... I think maybe they stick to one another because all them little pieces are just parts of a bigger whole."

There was your introspective psychoanalytic just-generally-really-deep shit for the day, courtesy of a ginger with a chicken tattooed to his ass.

Luke nodded, looking thoughtful. "He's started a club for people who've lost someone close to them. It's sad that others know what he's talking about."

"It is," Reno agreed, frowning a little as his mug returned to its place on his desk. "I guess if nothin' else, they got one another. First thing most people learn about the kids around here, is that for all that they're kids, a lot of 'em had to grow up way too damn fast."

"I thought myself quite grown up at 18," Luke said with a wry smile. "As I look back, my sixteen year old son is more mature than I was at 20."

Hey, don't look at Reno. He thought he was all grown up by the age of twelve. He had a body count at fifteen, and he was totally alright with that. And now he was twenty, and he sometimes caught himself wondering if maybe he'd done entirely too damn much living already.

"Seems like he's holdin' it together, though. And for all the maturin' that he's done, he's still got a bit of growin' up to do. There's a difference, I think, just some people don't look close enough to see both."

Luke's smile grew. "I'm glad you know the difference as well. It makes for an astute teacher."

"And now that you said that, I gotta try double hard not to disappoint," Reno replied, that cocky little grin of his sliding over his expression. "There anything else you needed?"

"No," Luke said, standing up. "Thank you for your time."

"Hey, it's what I'm here for, yo. You got any concerns anytime through the school year, whatever, you feel free to take 'em to me. I'll see what I can do."

Reno gave a little nod, and then flicked off what was something like a cross between a lazy salute and a casual wave good-bye.

Office Hours, Saturday

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