Reno of the Turks (
raspberryturk) wrote2008-03-14 10:09 pm
Room 429, Friday Evening
Reno was looking at the dirty postcard that he had received from Romeo with about as much admiration as agitation.
On one hand, Romeo had pretty sweet taste in women.
On the other hand, the hundred-and-something year old postcard was... a hundred and something years old. Which was going to be problematic, so far as writing Romeo back to thank him for the vintage porn was concerned.
"Say tray jolly yes," Reno decided, butchering the French language as he stood the postcard on his dresser and stepped back to appreciate it. "And so help me, dammit, I'm gonna tell you that to your face, yoto."
[Door's shut, but the post is open like openly open things.Calling all girlfriends, yo.]
On one hand, Romeo had pretty sweet taste in women.
On the other hand, the hundred-and-something year old postcard was... a hundred and something years old. Which was going to be problematic, so far as writing Romeo back to thank him for the vintage porn was concerned.
"Say tray jolly yes," Reno decided, butchering the French language as he stood the postcard on his dresser and stepped back to appreciate it. "And so help me, dammit, I'm gonna tell you that to your face, yoto."
[Door's shut, but the post is open like openly open things.

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Mrowls that sounded like retarded cat oracles were somewhat more specific.
Reno was trying not to look too insanely relieved as he opened the door to see Rikku and her little cat, too.
"Yo!"
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"Been worse, yo." He looked her over, just to be certain there were no parts missing. Parts were important. "You okay?"
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Petey was wriggling. As he was not fond of being squished.
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Whoa. This was Reno's 'Whoa' face.
He backed off a half-step and motioned for her to come into his room so they could set the cat down and shut the door.
"Those are some freakin' hardcore statues," he mumbled.
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She set Petey down, reluctantly, trying not to shiver.
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"So, we know blowin' 'em up ain't gonna do it," he mumbled, shaking his head a little. "Means there's gotta be another way to get rid of 'em. Still far from over, zoto."
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Don't think about it. Don't. Don't.
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"Got a postcard from Romeo today," he said, kind-of but not-really changing the topic.
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But with more girls with their tits hanging out. And absinthe instead of tequila.
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Shivering a little. "What ... did your postcard say?"
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...
"He's doin' good."
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... Hard.
"Yeah, he sent me that. Guess he met her or her sister or somethin' at the place he's been hangin' around. Mullin Roog or whatever."
Reno had no concept of the French language whatsoever.
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They were ignoring Petey. Petey hated being ignored. Therefore, Petey was going to attack Reno's shoelaces. Omnomnom.
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There was a retarded cat attacking his shoelaces.
"Petey ain't happy unless he's tryin' to kill whatever I'm wearin', huh?"
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"He likes you," she said, laughing as she bent to scoop him up. "S-sorry, I shouldn't have brought him, I know, just ... I was all sniffly and he wouldn't get off my lap. I'll take him back now."
She pressed her face into the back of Petey's fur, smiling to herself, and he mrrrrred back at her.
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She nodded to the door. "And I wasn't gonna leave leave. Just run him back. So I can ... I mean ... I can stay tonight, right? That's okay?"
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Yes, yes this was, in fact, Reno saying that he would like for her to stay overnight in his room.
Someone call Ripley's.
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He was.
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"Damn, girl. With the way you coo over that thing, I'm startin' to wonder if you suffer separation anxiety when he's not in the same room as you overnight, yo."
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