Don't Step On The Flowers

... Aw, shit. It had been so long since Reno had spent time in his office. He'd gotten kinda familiar with it, what, back when the parents were on the island, way back? But he'd gone and told the Rookie's Rookie that he'd be here today, in case she wanted to talk. And anyhow, there was always shit to do.

Maybe he could hammer out lesson plans that would give him some kind of edge over that jerkass in the red coat.

Yeah. And he could write it in the dust that had settled on his desk over the months, too. Jeez.

[Reno's door is open!]

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.]

Too much drinking. Toooo much drinking, and fretting, and getting the rookie in trouble. And nothing in the world made a guy feel like cleaning his mouth out with sandpaper than a night that started with Corel ale, and then headed into rum and ice-cream territory. And really, it was a wonder that Reno had managed to drag his sorry ass back home last night in the first place.

( Aftermath. )

[NFB for distance, as usual. Reno's open for phone calls or what-have-you. Elena's whereabouts mentioned with enabling permission from findingelena, and I find Tseng's temper to be entirely too much fun to play. Entirely.]

Damn, it was good to be on the island.

Daaaaaaaamn, it was so good to be on the island. And sure, the room he'd grabbed at The Arms wasn't his dorm room, but he had a real, honest-to-gods bed here, instead of the lumpy couch Reno had been sleeping on for the past little while, and that alone made the whole trip worth it.

Well, the bed and the minibar. He was going to have to coordinate some kind of drinking outing with the guys before he took off again, maybe. In the meantime, he'd pick up his cellphone and leave some handwavey messages telling his buddies on the island where he could be found.

And then? Then he was going to flop backward on that amazing friggin' bed and just sprawl.

Oh, hell yeah.

[Door's open, and if you figure you'd get a call, you totally did. Mmmm, feels like home.]

Rude's couch was lumpy and hard to sleep on.

Rude's couch was lumpy and hard to sleep on, Rude's booze was running low, and the lighting in Rude's living room sucked.

All that, and Reno had more reading material than he could have ever hoped for. And a bean sprout in a plastic cup sitting in some wet paper towel. And a pair of cacti that he hadn't managed to kill yet. And an anxious ferret, attempting to help him either with the booze, or with the reading, whichever Mako happened to be able to reach more easily at the time.

As such things went, after a week and a half back in Edge with no outlet to the real world, it was time for Reno to take a break. He'd written a letter earlier in the week in reply to one that he'd gotten last week Thursday, which was all well and good... but dammit, he needed to hear a voice that didn't belong to a Turk, a member of the WRO, or some random person living on the street corners in Edge.

Spare Gil for the homeless, they'd beg, and he'd toss them a few, just because he had a few to spare. But not without a mumble and a frown.

Yeah. You an' everyone else, yo.

He needed to make some freaking phone calls, or he was going to go out of his mind, damn it.

[NFB for distance, open to anyone who thinks that Reno would have a reason to call them! Or, heck, open to anyone. He's bored, he'll probably just hit buttons until he hears familiar voices, at this point.]

"--And you don't even smell that bad," Reno said, holding his ferret in his arms. He'd been going on like this since he'd woken up and decided to strike up a friendly rapport with his pet. "Kinda like sour somethin'-or-other or kinda gunky feet or somethin'. I've smelled worse, yo. I mean, like, I smelled worse, Mako. You should'a seen the kinda junk we had to wade through as Turks. And, I mean, Midgar. There was a city that stank. I miss Midgar. And here I am talkin' to you like a nut. You know, I shouldn't even have a pet? I only agreed to gettin' you when Rikku dragged me to the pet shop 'cause I crave some kinda companionship that ain't gonna leave me just because they find out I'm some kinda heartless government tool--"

That was about the point where he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned.

"And you don't care. You're some kinda weasel thing. So why am I tellin' you this?"

Mako blinked up at Reno lazily, and then set his chin down on his lap and attempted to sleep. Snoozing was hard when someone kept trying to strike up a conversation with you, after all.

[Open door is open!]

Rone, the twin of the ill-fated and rather dim, rather wealthy, and stunningly attractive Reno, had spent Saturday in his newly acquired room, rifling through all of his ill-gotten gains. The body of his late brother had been tied up (simply because one could never be too careful) and locked in the closet, where Rone wouldn't have to lay eyes on it until he could find the opportunity to properly dispose of the very clearly, certainly, obviously, and indisputably dead thing.

He didn't mind losing the closet space, really. His twin brother kept very little in his enormous walk-in closet, aside from a few Armani suits and the food for Reno's rarest-of-the-rare prized pedigree Amazon black-footed angora siamese polydactyl scentless albino vegan afghan show-ferret, of course. And Rone had little interest in such trivial things.

No, no, Rone's attention had been on far more important fare. Reno's diary, left on the nightstand with the key conveniently set beside it for purposes of quickening along the scene, had proven to be interesting reading last night. He had learned a great deal about the family that he had never known and about the life that he was now going to assume for his own.

His foolish brother's diary had become his bible, and a red sharpie marker had taken care of the little matter of mimicking the two red birthmarks on his brother's cheeks, which were the only features that, at a glance or a glimpse or even a good, long look, set the two of them apart.

Armed with Reno's entire life story scrawled in flowery calligraphy in a little black book, Rone's plot to have his revenge and to take the family fortune for himself was finally underway. Reno's wallet was in his pocket, and he'd painstakingly perfected the art of forging his twin brother's signature overnight. All that remained now was the process of insinuating himself into every aspect of the life that his brother had once known.

Just as soon as he'd had himself a nice, long, melodramatic laugh, naturally.

[Door is closed, but the post is open, if you'd like to pop in. I'm headed to bed right away, but I'll be around to catch pings in the morning!]

( In Which The Posse Plays 'Ring Around The Monument,' ) ( A Dragon Is Summoned, ) ( And Fought, ) ( And ShinRa Falls. Again. )

[Still NFI and NFB, and chunks are still snitched from Advent Children, with tweakage to account for the awesomeness of us now being able to say the phrase "Romeo Montague, Dragonslayer." Preplayed with the_merriest, dojima_hime, fair_montague, and sarcasm_guy. Many thanks to Rikku-mun for her help coding and sorting this monstrous beast. OOC continues to be love.]