A Trail Of Blood, [Closedish? Flashback] Rude, Reno.
Rude
Posted: Jan 3 2012, 11:29 PM


Greentike


Group: Inactive
Posts: 13
Member No.: 540
Joined: 11-December 11



Rude only smirked bemusedly when Tseng smacked that shrill Ancient girl across the face. She'd done nothing but natter and fight at them since they'd caught her. If Tseng hadn't done it, Rude would have and probably a lot harder. Tseng was going easy on her because he was sweet on her, Rude could tell. Still, he really wished he would move it along. The dark haired man was too busy gloating and toying with those AVALANCHE fucks on the top of the plate, he hadn't noticed how sorry a state Reno was in. His redheaded partner was half laying in the co-pilot chair beside him, panting heavily and bleeding profusely from a wound on his chest. His EMR lay on the floor of the chopper next to them, fizzling angrily, still activated. Recklessly, Rude took one hand from the cyclic control, fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a Potion. He threw it into the injured man's lap.

“Use it,” he said sternly. He didn't think it would do much at the moment, however. The redhead was pretty badly messed up; bruises already forming and bleeding cuts all over him. But, at the very least, it might heal some internal bleeding, Rude figured. Typical Reno, always getting caught up in some kind of fight he couldn't handle alone. He wouldn't have been in such a state if Tseng had let Rude go down with him. He would have had Reno's back. Logically, he knew it made sense and it had been their only choice. Reno was faster, and knew how to wire Rude's bombs up to the plate's mainframe. Not to mention, one of them had to stay behind to pilot the chopper and Tseng had to watch the stupid girl. But still, goddamnit, an irrational part of himself wanted to give Tseng a similar slap to that he'd just given the girl.

“It's time, boss,” he said lowly into his headset. The bomb was going to go off any second now. He yanked at the joystick and manoeuvred the controls to pull them away just in time as the first few blasts tore the great, stone pillar apart at the middle, far above them. He narrowly avoided the rotors being hit by falling, fiery debris as the tower steadily broke in on itself. Those AVALANCHE kids stood no chance getting away from that, he thought. The flower girl was screaming and crying. Rude's mouth twisted slightly in anger, but at what exactly, he wasn't sure. Even though he was concentrating on steering them all to safety, he couldn't avoid seeing the destruction they were leaving behind them. Massive parts of the tower and the plate above it were crashing down into the Sector 7 slums like mini meteors and fire was spreading faster than Rude could have imagined. He'd never seen destruction or death on this scale before and truth be told, he was almost horrified. He felt a familiar, creeping disgust crawl up through him. It reminded him of the Nibelheim incident years ago. He hoped the President was watching, hoped he could see what he had ordered them to do. He felt a cold rock of hatred drop hard into the bottom of his stomach when he realised the obese moron was probably drinking a Martini and laughing his ass off.

He turned to look behind him again. Tseng was staring from the explosion to the weeping woman at his feet. His face was unreadable. Rude grunted and turned to Reno. In his panic to steer them away from the falling plate, he had forgotten about him for a moment. The redhead's eyes were closed, mouth slack.

“Shit,” he said, and let go of cyclic again. He shook him. “Reno! Reno! Hey! Wake up!”



Exp: 631

[OOC: Right, you're all goddmodded to hell here. I'm sorry! I spoke to Reno about hers and she said it was cool, but I couldn't get in touch with the other two. I will gladly change anything that Meagan or Numbs don't like being said here, no problem at all. I just felt that mentioning their character's actions added to the atmosphere of the writing here. But, don't mind amending them at all and OF COURSE you are welcome to join in this thread.]


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Reno
Posted: Jan 5 2012, 05:38 PM


Anklebiter


Group: Final Fantasy
Posts: 48
Member No.: 90
Joined: 6-April 11



Reno was a Turk. In fact, he wasn't just a Turk he was the fastest of them. In fact, not only was that true, he held a position of power within them. Well, that might have been true had there been more Turks. Reno was Second in Command, a position AVALANCHE probably thought he wasn't capable of holding, but apparently there was something about that damn team of warriors that always managed to best him. First Shears, now Strife - Reno just wasn't having any luck kicking their asses. Unlike the last version of the terrorist organisation (though they would deny that was what they were), Reno harboured no ill will, even now. It couldn't be easy being Hojo's experiment, though the kid looked like he had no idea. It couldn't be easy standing up against Shinra and as long as they weren't interested in destroying the damn planet, Reno actually admired them for their balls. He could never say anything about it, not in present company, though over time he might slip a few words to Rude because he shared everything with Rude. Rude was the only reason to keep going really. He knew madness and insanity were just around the corner if Rude should ever be killed: especially if Reno was present because he'd be haunted by what he could have done to save him. Many considered Reno unable to feel affection, or love, or anything fondness (and that went for most Turks) but he was human too and not a psychopath and not quite a sociopath either - though he was close he was told. Reno, in general, liked people. It took more than standing in his way to truly anger him.

Orders to stop AVALANCHE had changed to distracting them, to even turning popular opinion against them. Right now Shinra Electric Power Company wasn't doing to favourably in the polls, and if there was one thing the Pres worried about it was opinion. Fear was what he ruled by, and money. So they were too try to gain what standing they had previous when they fought AVALANCHE before. These kids looked too young to recall what had happened last time, and Reno looked either just old enough to know what had happened, or too young himself. His age was his own secret, though everyone knew it regardless. Secrets were something Reno liked keeping about himself since they made him feel safe. Most of the time the others had the decency to pretend they didn't have a clue. Other times they didn't. Reno worked hard at shrouding himself in mystery and making it look effortless. It never hurt that his partner was tall, bald, dark skinned, and effortlessly silent, which intimidated more people than his own glaring, shorter stature, thin, red headed, loud motor mouth ever could. They were duped into believing that Rude was the one they should be watching out for. Being the calmer of the two of them, the more serene shall we say, when Rude does something you know he really means it yes, but Reno could fly off the handle at any moment - and he was unequivocally violent about it. Violence was second nature to the vibrant red head but it needed to be to hold his own in a job as dangerous and as cut throat as this. Rude could be violent too. Reno had seen it. Damn that man was gorgeous when he was fighting.

Shinra was messed up, Reno decided, if he thought dropping the Plate of Sector Seven was a good distraction. That was a Turk like idea and Reno hadn't thought of it. The more insane ideas usually came from him. His creativity knew no bounds, nor did it acknowledge safety, or reality most of the time either. However Reno was damn effective and he got the job done, which was the reason he hadn't been terminated for the rest long ago. Also, Reno liked to figure they liked him, just a little bit, despite the constant nagging at him. The sense of control the acting out gave him, provided him with the ability to cling on to whatever scant remains of sanity he had left. Not that Reno truly believed he was insane or anything, but talking like he was did add some extra flourish into a conversation - and sure freaked out the locals. Reno did not live by your expectations, he lived by his own (and Tseng's but meh). Reno was expected to damn well do what he was told and while he occasionally kicked up a fuss over it, Reno always did what was required - and then some. So he went over to the Sector Seven pillar with the intention of rigging up the bomb, which he had done so not quite as fast as he would have liked. AVALANCHE caught up with him and he was forced to bluff, lie, stall and fight them off. He hadn't wanted to get caught up in the explosion, but if he couldn't take them out with either the explosion or himself, then he could make it appear to the world that it was AVALANCHE who set the bomb and the Turks had no unsavoury involvement at all. However anyone with any sense would realise that Shinra regulated all news broadcasts so basically everything pumping into their homes was a pile of stinking shit regardless. Shinra had it's friends. Shinra had it's enemies.

Reno, in two minds about this job did it anyway. Even if he had refused they would have just sent Rude, or some other lackey to take the fall and hopefully get blown up with the Pillar. It was a heavy price he paid so see this one through. Reno wasn't sure how he managed to cling on to the rope ladder, let alone climb up it. Once free and safe from the rage that was Cloud Strife (deranged failed experiment), Reno was reclining in the co-pilot seat breathing heavily. Normally he would have immediately taken control of the yoke and fly them out of there regardless of whether or not Tseng wanted to perform a little side show by half heartedly smacking the Ancient Chick across the face. Reno, of course, didn't notice any of this. he was far too busy being consumed by the pain he was in. He heard a familiar voice, a small dunt against his lap and a string of words that very much sounded like an instruction. His arms felt heavy. His legs were tired. His eyes were closing...

There was an earthquake! the buildings were shaking and the ground was rumbling. Cracks appeared in the ground - giant abysses that never ended. The sky swirled dark with black streaks across the azure hue. Glass panes fell clear out of windows, falling to the ground like a dart before smashing into a trillion, needle sharp slivers with malignant intentions. The oceans rolled, the puddles rippled and a huge boulder flew past his line of sight smashing into a bird...wait what? There was a pressure on his shoulder, a pain squeezing his chest and an insistent yelling that should kindly shut up but it wasn't for going away. He tried to tell it to pipe down but all that came out was a strangled moan and he was forced to open his sea green/blue eyes with a concentrated squint. Reno uncoordinated, raised a shaky hand stained with blood and managed to jab Rude's cheek gently with a finger below his dark sunglasses. "Yo Ruuuuuuuuude," He said. "I look like shit man. You let me go out like this yo?" he asked though he was pretty sure there was nothing Rude could have done to prevent him leaving any confined space ( locked and armed to the teeth or not). Reno had a habit of fleeing the scene, particularly when said action appeared impossible.

EXP: 1317
Rude
Posted: Jan 5 2012, 10:11 PM


Greentike


Group: Inactive
Posts: 13
Member No.: 540
Joined: 11-December 11



Rude knew that even in this day and age, putting a chopper on auto-pilot wasn't the cleverest thing to do, and should be avoided whenever possible. If he was conscious, Reno would have kicked his ass and called him an amateur for doing it. Nevetheless, he found himself switching on the auto-hover the second they were out of danger from the falling plate and the thick, black smoke. He briefly thought he heard Tseng shout out at him to get moving, but when he looked up his attention was back to the Ancient. Even if Tseng had tried to make him get back in the pilot's seat, Rude, usually ever so loyal and taciturn, wasn't he sure he would have obeyed.

He cursed. What had previously been 'Reno's in a sorry state', had rapidly turned into 'Reno's going to die'. How did he get beat this bad, Rude asked himself. He should have bailed out of there a lot sooner. But then again, Reno almost always had his reasons for doing crazy shit like this. He might act like it sometimes, but Reno was no moron. You don't get to be second in command by being a happy-go-lucky idiot. Reno was sly, snide and serious about his job. But Rude was still going to beat the hell out of him for pulling this shit. What the hell would he do if Reno checked out now?

“Don't do this to me now, kid,” he said, crouching at his side. He held Reno by the shoulders gave the man a stiff shake. Rude had to remind himself to breathe and calm down as he felt a feeling he was very unfamiliar with: fear. As a Turk, he was involved daily in what would be called 'scary situations' by most. But, that was his own life and he chose to put it in danger. That was the job and it usually wasn't frightening to him at all. Adrenaline pulsed through him, sure, but this was one of the very few times Rude felt scared and useless. It reminded him far too much of when Reno took on Shears years ago and got his ass handed to him then too. He hadn't really known Reno all that well back then, though. Not in comparison to how he did now, anyway. But even back then their teamwork had been flawless. They'd only gotten that shithead beat when they took him on together. The most powerful Turk and the fastest Turk made a perfect team. The memory did the trick to calm Rude some. If Reno came back from that fight, he'd get through this too. Rude knew it.

With a forced mental snap, he made himself switch off to everything around him and inside him, except the situation at hand. He reminded himself that he couldn't afford to let himself panic or let his emotions -such as they were- rule him like this. He had been trained for times like this, he told himself sternly. He knew what to do. He kept his face composed. The only sign of his worry was his closely knit eyebrows and slightly trembling hands.

“Reno, come on,” he hissed. He yanked off his gloves and put his hands over the pulse in Reno's neck. Unsteady and weak, but it was there. He tore the redhead's shirt open. The worst injury was on his chest, travelling around to his back. Blood was gushing all over them both. Rude cursed quietly. He placed his shaking hands over a part of it and cast his most powerful Cure spell. Magic and Materia wasn't his strong point, but it was better than nothing right now. He had to wait a few minutes, (using Materia tired him quickly) and cast it again. He wasn't sure, but it looked like the blood loss was slowing. It was working. Or, his heart skipped a beat, Reno was running out of blood.

With another shake, the redhead started to come around. Reno's normally bright, aquamarine eyes were dull, glassy and barely focussing on anything around him. He mumbled something about how he looked. Rude could hardly hear his voice over the continuous spinning of the rotors, but he felt Reno's blood smear over his face as the redhead poked him gently. At least he had enough strength to move a little, Rude thought, relieved. The dark-skinned man realised with another start that Reno hadn't drank the Potion he'd thrown to him before. He leaned down, snatched it from the floor -Gods, there was blood everywhere- and grabbed him by his blood and fire coloured hair, harshly.

“Hey,” he snapped, “open up, idiot.”

Wasting no time, he pulled Reno against his chest and whilst keeping as much pressure as he could on the fierce wound, he tipped the contents of the Potion past Reno's thin lips. That looked like it helped, Rude thought. There was certainly less blood loss. He turned and barked at Tseng to get in the pilot's seat or to keep pressure on Reno's wound. He managed to cast another weak Cure spell and nearly passed out himself this time. Fuck Materia, he thought.

“You're gonna be okay, partner. It's just a scratch.”

--

EXP: 872
Total: 1503


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Reno
Posted: Jan 10 2012, 12:05 PM


Anklebiter


Group: Final Fantasy
Posts: 48
Member No.: 90
Joined: 6-April 11



Being a Turk was never easy. Reno would have preferred breaking out of Corel Prison if it was. He wanted a challenge, excitement, a giant thrill and a shot of adrenalin. Being a Turk meant being responsible for not only one's own fate, but the fate of your partner's. it was carrying out tasks with sly cunning, speed, stealth, intelligence and more often than not, flair. Many were tempted to the ways of assassination but only a few took to it like a duck to water. Reno gelled with it so fast it was like he had done nothing else. A lot of difficult things had been asked of him: some he had been more than happy to do, some he found challenging, some things he found easy some he didn't want to do but he did it anyway. Being a Turk wasn't just about espionage, killing, murdering rampages or doing all the bad stuff parents frightened their kids with. It was also about sucking up to the executives, doing what you were told because when they asked you to jump you asked how high would you like that sir, and then after you did the deed you did the effing paperwork! Paperwork was the true scum of the earth, not Turks like the world wanted to think. Paperwork, filing, those metal cabinets you kept the filing in would take over the world if it had a mind to do so. Tseng didn't agree, neither had Verdot but Reno was adamant about that. Actually he got more adamant when he was high on drugs in the hospital. Reno held a vague memory of yelling "don't tell the paperclips,"

Reno hadn't been too happy about the Plate Dropping Assignment. Over kill much? But what could a guy do? He had to do what he was told or he was on the menu for some target practice for the lame ass army who couldn't find their way out of a paper bag. The way the world worked for Reno was simple, or at least he pretended he thought it was. He went to sleep, or he didn't, he got up, went to work late, pulled a few pranks, got a mission to prepare for, dodged doing paperwork in the hopes that maybe Rude would do what Reno didn't have to do himself. Yeah, he wasn't always fair to his tall, dark, and delicious looking partner but Reno did try and make it up to him, sometimes. He liked having the big guy around. There was nothing more soothing than that man's presence - not even tea, like some guy whose name Reno can't recall tried to tell him that one time he was hyper off his ass. Bouncing off the walls was the best way to annoy Heideggar. It was fun when that fat man flapped his armed, though he was grotesquely scary. By far he was Reno's favourite to annoy, since Scarlet would actually eat him alive if she ever caught him, and the others, well, Palmer and co were just no fun. Reeve Tuesti was the only decent guy in the entire building who was entirely wasted in the Housing and Refurbishment Department, but damn if that guy didn't have planning down to a T. Shinra was under pressure from the executives too. Everybody wanted something from somebody else.

Reno wanted Rude to love him just like he loved Rude. It wasn't to be though. Reno had spent the better part of the past few years attempting to get that guy's attention and see him as more than the occasionally bothersome partner who randomly required assistance out of the jams he had created for himself. Rude was his rock, his comfort, his serenity and most importantly his stabilising sanity. Reno always missed him when he wasn't by his side. It was for that reason the red head felt a large gaping hole at his side whilst he rigged up the fat pillar with triggers and wires and chained explosives. It wasn't that hard to set up. Reno found it easy and simple to rig it up. He didn't require instruction. He understood Rude's bombs better than anyone else in the Turks. Being his partner did provide some insight into how the big guy thought. It wasn't unusual for Reno to have an entire conversation with Rude and the guy in question had said nothing. It was a skill that was non-transferable. He could read his facial twitches with the same ease he could read letters. Speaking a language no one else could was certainly fun. He didn't need words to understand Rude. He would prefer to understand him minus the clothing and the ties and the shirts and oh yes, the underwear but he would just have to wait for Rude to catch up with him. It shouldn't be too long should it?

He was thinking about being a turk with Rude whilst he was setting it up. Then al he was thinking about was how annoyingly persistent these AVALANCHE guys were and why were they still after his ass? Fighting was a primary instinct in Reno, who's violent nature he had honed and sharpened into a primary weapon. But it wasn't enough. What was it about AVALANCHE that rendered him pretty much useless. he tried fighting them and whilst he put up a good fight for a good long while, there were three of them and just one of him. There was only so long he could kick but before they started to pound on him hard. He was covered in cuts and quickly purpling bruises, tender skin, factures and he was sure a couple of broken bones too. It felt like too long before the chopper was circling close enough with the rope ladder for him to climb up. He took the jump the second he could not wanting to be around the pound happy trio a moment longer than he had to be. what was it with those guys? Seriously! They could a been a bit nicer about it. OK, probably not with him being the bad guy about to blow up an entire plate and kill almost everyone below it, not to mention the rich guys Shinra was supposed to like on top of it too. There was a lot of collateral damage here for a couple of guys with interesting dress sense. They were more than likely to survive it. They were like cockroaches or worms or whatever little buggy things that manage to survive against all odds. These guys were beginning to do his nut in.

Speaking of his head, it was pounding. He was sitting on the leather seats of the helicopter as it really began to bounce. He thought it be good to relax for a couple of minutes, resting his head against he cool material and hoping the world would stop spin for just a moment. He was already slipping asleep when the chopper began to move away from the danger infested sky. Chunks of ruined pillar and houses were teeming down the light blue in a smoky, fiery ruin. Reno had his eyes shut to all of this, though his dreams did have an unusual tilted quality, and a deep vibration bordering earthquake like. There was an irritating shaking on his self that he really wanted to stop. That was what got him to open his eyes to the pleasant sight of Rude's dark skin and customary sunglasses guarding his eyes against the sunny rays. Seeing Rude alive and well flooded Reno with sharp relief. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for that man, not anything he wouldn't go through or put up with. He'd travel all around the globe to find him if he was lost and there was no amount of convincing that could get him to do otherwise. Rude was the most important section of his world. Currently though, his world was more than a little painful. Reno groaned as Rude tugged on his injuries. Did he have to do that? The world spun for a moment, turning on an axis that shouldn't be possible. He thought for a moment he might be sick and tried to tel rude but couldn't recall what the words should be to do that. Then something was dribbling down his throat. There was no choice but to swallow. It tasted funny. He coughed in protest, waving an arm weakly as though that could possibly stop whatever was going on here. "Stop it," he complained as though he had any choice. he trusted Rude to do what was best for him: always. That often involved overruling what he wanted. Reno was used to fighting for what he had, for what he thought he needed, and for what he wanted. Unfortunately he wasn't up for much physical exertion right now.

feeling slightly better Reno made only one comment. "Pretty big scratch. He's got a big sword you know. how does he lif' tha' thing? He's no' even go' any muscles," he complained, leaning against Rude. If he had been more with it, he would have made a comment about that.

EXP: 1527
TOTAL: 2844
Tseng
Posted: Jan 10 2012, 05:24 PM


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Group: Admin
Posts: 40
Member No.: 26
Joined: 27-March 11



    A slap resounded in his mind.

    He had never touched Aerith. Not once. Not that he hadn't wanted to, yearned to - indeed even now some part of him ached to kneel down beside her and hug out all the pain he had just slapped into her. Yet he couldn't. He couldn't remove her fear, and that, that simply continued to enrage him.

    She probably forgave him. Already, he could tell her soul had recovered from the wound he had tried to brand in her - indeed he was probably far more shattered that she was. He had slapped her, all for show, all to scare the little jerks who had forced her into this situation. They had taken the innocent lamb and she would be their sacrifice. It didn't matter if they were dead or not now, she was in Shinra's clutches.

    She would be nothing more than an experiment.

    For all the years he had protected her, kept her safe through constant delays and pleading with the president - that was all over now. She owed him that, but he would ask nothing from her but her hatred. He wanted her to revile him, spit in his face, curse him for putting her in a cage - because in the end he was too much of a coward to save her from this fate.

    If he was not careful, he would lose another to this so called 'fate'. He was tense, overly so - starting to show the strains of emotion as he asked what Rude thought he was doing and told him to get back to the Pilot's seat.

    His defiance caught him off guard.

    Trying to keep his cool, he watched from his position. He knew the helicopter would be on autopilot, which, although was not ideal - they were almost away from the plate and would soon be exposed to open country. He was more worried about this outright act of opposition rather than any danger he was actually in, they could make up whatever they wanted to explain the delay to Heidegger, but the effort alone really wasn't something he wanted to do.

    Still. He waited, and he watched, observing as Rude began to tend to Reno. There was something tender in it, at least. He didn't suspect anything - why would he? It was human enough to tend to the injured. Yet Rude had to learn not to cling so tightly to another.

    Reno could of died that day.

    He could die any day - what, was he to expect the loss of two team members if he passed? Rude would have to learn, to some extent, that he would need to be able to stand on his own - even if they did make a somewhat effective team. No doubt he would, internally, he wailing about not being able to go down and fight with Reno against Cloud and the others. Maybe he wouldn't have been in such a bad state, but logic dictated that he should have been able to handle this on his own.

    Reno was weak, but he had done his job well. He wasn't meant to be a solider, and he had held them off long enough to receive a pat in the back. And yet, seeing him there, stained with blood and barely breathing - he felt nothing. He had been conditioned to not care about death, to see Reno's loss as nothing more than wasted time and a new employment opportunity. What his head thought and his heart spoke however, tended to be very different things.

    Reno was family, to some extent. He wasn't exactly a brother, maybe more like a distant cousin - but he was still someone Tseng could rest some amount of burden on. They never spoke in terms of emotion or really of anything outside of their profession - but time makes one loyal to one another, he assumed. Reno gave to him a sense of reality.

    Tseng had become so used to the feckless, cold, corporate world. he had seen nothing but labs and documents and soldiers dressed in clean suits and fine dresses. He had seen countless staff parties - money and wine splurged everywhere as Shinra cawed its global success. He had begun to forgot was was real. Aerith, even, was unreal. She was soft and god-like, pristine and too gentle for this world, soon to be shattered because of his unwilling hand - but Reno, oh Reno. Reno was a boy full of obscenities and smoke. He was filthy, disorganized but efficient. He was the true face of the company, the sleezy greaseball from the slums who just wanted to make a living.

    He, to some extent, kept him sane, he owed him that.

    So while Rude knelt down beside him, tending to him before Tseng even batted an eyelid at him - he tried to go soft on him. Quickly any shouts and violence towards Rude faded, and became only a small gesture of thanks as a hand fell on his shoulder.

    "Watch the girl," he said with mock authority. Perhaps he would pull up this issue later, use it to sting Rude and dock him of some pay - but for now, for this, he owed him. Besides.

    He didn't want to look at Aerith any more.

    Pausing, he waited to see whatever Rude's reaction was, adding only while looking at Reno, "It won't be long until we reach Headquarters. Do you think you can hang in that long?"

    It was a request more than a question, really.

{If I was OOC, slap me about, it's been a long time since I properly got into Tseng, but damn that was fun.}

Word Count: 960


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Rude
Posted: Jan 12 2012, 08:37 PM


Greentike


Group: Inactive
Posts: 13
Member No.: 540
Joined: 11-December 11



Reno's head lolled on Rude's shoulder, his hair spilling like his blood over Rude's chest and arm. The weight and heat of the redhead's body against his was reassuring. He would've been cold if he was near death. The blood had all but stopped flowing from the wounds and Reno was strong enough now to talk, stay conscious and even attempt to fight off the treatment Rude was roughly giving him. Rude let go of a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. He would live, then. The dark-skinned man made sure the entire Potion was empty before pulling his thick arm away from the wound. Quickly, but gently, he moved them both from the chair and rearranged Reno's weakened body on the floor of the chopper, as though he were a ragdoll. He was so white, his orange hair and blue eyes a stark and frightening contrast against his snowy pallor. Rude pulled off his blood soaked jacket and wrapped it tightly over Reno's chest to keep the pressure on the wound, just in case. He's going to be fine, he repeated in his mind.

“Hm. Neither did that Zack kid,” he replied lowly to Reno's babbled question. He didn't give a damn how strong the AVALANCHE kid was or how big his sword was, Rude would make sure he got what he deserved for massacring his partner like this. If he hadn't already done so by bringing a plate down on their heads, that was. Then again, he thought ruefully, 'avenging his little friend' hadn't worked out so well the last time he tried it when he took on Shears alone.

Tseng's stern, commanding voice cut through his thoughts and Rude was suddenly embarrassed. There was no private or...intimate moment interrupted between himself and his partner – he was saving his life, for crying out loud. There was no doubt in Rude's mind that if he hadn't acted as he had, Reno would have bled out and would probably be dead now. But, he knew that even though it had only been for a short moment, Rude had panicked. He had lost his tight grip on his iron, golem-like control for a second and he couldn't stand that someone might have witnessed him that way. Witnessed that even a mute rock like him had a weakness somewhere. To anyone else, Rude probably would have appeared uncaring, or irritated by the situation. But someone like Tseng and especially Reno could have easily picked up on the minute things that gave Rude's...fear away. Now, he felt ridiculous and stupid.

He stood rigidly and nodded sharply at Tseng, keen to regain his emotionless image. He turned away from his partner, much as he loathed to. Although he knew logically now that Reno would pull through, he didn't want to leave him alone lying there on the cold, metal floor, gasping and panting in pain. But orders were orders and Rude reminded himself that he had to obey, no matter what.

What was it about his partner that made him do reckless things, he asked himself. Rude had known Reno since he was nothing more than a flame haired, wild teen; filthy, ferocious and furious at everything around him. He was the complete opposite of calm, collected, composed Rude. How had this idiot scurried under his skin and more importantly, why did he let him stay there? They were friends, comrades, partners. Rude trusted Reno like no other, and he had come to depend on him like a gun on bullets. Rude was a big, grown up and could more than handle himself in life, but he was slowly coming to realise that he not only wanted, but needed Reno to be around. Rude wasn't sure what that meant for himself. He was often teased that Reno was his 'other half'. They had shared a handful of...awkward, adrenaline fuelled “encounters” over the decade they'd worked together (handful being the operative word, he supposed). But, they'd never fucked or even kissed. Rude wasn't...like that. He was an ordinary guy who liked ordinary girls. He didn't want to be thought of in any other way.

He patted Reno's thigh as he did as he was told and stood near the girl. The chopper started moving again. He would never say it aloud, but Tseng had a really messed up infatuation with this girl. Truth be told, he was a little surprised that he hit her. Tseng generally wasn't much for physical, fist on face kind of violence in the first place, and to beat on a woman...well, it didn't strike Rude as Tseng's style. Tseng'd tailed her since she was a little thing. Was a paternal relationship then, he wondered, or was it sexual? It certainly puts a creepy spin on things, Rude thought. She was cute, he supposed, but nothing to write home about. It was enough to warrant curiosity in Rude's mind, but he would never say anything about it to Tseng. He knew it was a touch pedantic, but he felt a little satisfied that he'd seen Tseng lose some of his tightly sewn control too today. He'd file it away somewhere in the back of his mind, in case he ever needed something on his boss.

It occurred to him suddenly that he could have gotten the Cetra to heal Reno. How had the fact that a healer was less than three feet away slipped his mind all this time? She probably would have helped, he thought, and without much force to persuade her. Rude couldn't decide if he found that pathetic or admirable, but he didn't dwell on it. Her face was wet with tears, her brown hair wild and loose from the wind of the chopper's rotors. He wondered how he appeared to her, huge and hulking, eyes hidden and covered in his comrade's blood.

“Sit back,” he said with no tone whatsoever. “We're almost there. You wouldn't want to fall out.”

The flower girl's large, pale eyes rose to meet his own - the mass murderer's stony stare with a gentle pity and a resound sadness. There was something pure and at the same time, ugly and harrowing in the way she looked at him, so unflinchingly and unafraid. She looked at him as though he were so broken, he could only be forgiven for the cruelty he inflicted because he knew nothing else. Rude stood straight and still and told himself he was unmoved by her show of sympathy. But the longer he held her gaze, the more he wished he had never looked in the first place. He didn't like that look.
--

EXP: 1111
Total: 1983

[OOC: Sorry, Aeritth. Yeah, I kind of goddmodded you here, but remember that this is mostly Rude's perception of her look, because of how he feels, not necessarily how she exactly feels about him or what he did. Also, oooh Rude your denial is amusing to me.]


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Reno
Posted: Jan 20 2012, 10:44 PM


Anklebiter


Group: Final Fantasy
Posts: 48
Member No.: 90
Joined: 6-April 11



If Reno was aware that the chopper was in autopilot, he would have glared at Rude. Then he would have hit him hard, somewhere on his anatomy (wherever his fist happened to land) before scolding him loudly. For the rest of the flight he would glare anxiously at his 'baby' and alternately glaring at Rude for his momentary stupidity. The lecture would begin either immediately or momentarily, with the alternative option of it simmering until they touched down before it exploded into something vile and ugly. Autopilot was a vile, foul thing that should never have been invented. However this time, he might just have to forgive him for it. What was a guy to do, stretched to the limit with a dying guy slumped in the seat next to you? Auto-pilot was unfortunately a necessary evil in that case.

Reno hated getting shit wrong. he liked doing his job, doing it right, doing it well and executing missions with supreme efficiency. Reno hated it when his reports came back with negative news. Failing was not an option and while Reno preferred to call it 'delayed success' it officially went down onto his record as a black stinking mark, staring at him mockingly. Reno hated failing in all forms. So far he had managed to avert the ultimate failure: death. Some people called that bad luck, others called it unfortunate but Reno saw it was nothing but a painful, sucky failure that lasted for decades. It wasn't how a Turks started life, or life on the job, it was how they ended it that was remembered. Reno didn't want his legacy to be 'died in the attempt to set up a rag tag team of eco-terrorists, so disorganised they keep stumbling upon the truth'. Reno wanted to go out with a bang, and while the plate falling into a fiery abyss. He had managed to create a new kind of hell all on his own and he had never done that before. Part of him, the part that wasn't slightly horrified, or angry at being so horribly and spectacularly defeated by AVALANCHE, or the large part that was fascinated by the falling debris was proud of the carnage. This was a massive scale of chaos and pain, unlike anything he had ever managed to achieve before. OK, it was done under orders which took some of the glory from his shoulders but he was the one who managed to pull it off. And now he was looking forward to the morphine! There was going to be morphine, he would make sure he got it, even if he had to steal it from the nurses.

"Could get used to this," Reno said, as he lay against Rude's solid, warm body. It could easily be passed off as delirious chatter from the severely injured guy, splayed out across the chopper. his thin limbs weren't really taking up that much room but they were pretty long. He knew Rude would understand the subtle hint, though the timing could be better. It was one of his more gentle ways to remind Rude that he was still interested and waiting for him to get his head out of the clouds and come smell the interest. Rude thought he was hot and wanted to do many imaginative things to him. Reno wasn't ever going to give up on getting Rude and nothing would change that: not even death.

He was moved to the floor which felt strange to his body. He was sure that he had never been down here before, not in these circumstances anyway. Normally he'd be doing something far more enjoyable that attempting to not die on the floor of a helicopter. "He was a first class soldier," Reno replied. "Didn't need big ass muscles," he added. "Big...muscley muscles... that are strong," he said, drifting off to fantasy land where Rude wasn't wearing any clothing and in a better setting. He missed rude's presence by his side every second he was away. That was totally pathetic and girly but he couldn't help it. When it came to everyone but Rude and Tseng and occasionally Rufus when he wasn't being an asshole, Reno couldn't care less. It was just them that tugged his rusty heartstrings with persistence.

"Easy peasy, yo," Reno replied to Tseng. "Not a problem. All part of the mission package," he babbled.

words: 731
total: 3575
a/n: sorry. this is kinda sucky :/
Rude
Posted: Jan 26 2012, 08:45 PM


Greentike


Group: Inactive
Posts: 13
Member No.: 540
Joined: 11-December 11



Rude was one of those people that despised hospitals. He couldn't think of anyone that especially liked them either, but in Rude's experience, going to the hospital meant that somebody was probably going to die. It wasn't the death part that bothered him. Sure, it was sad. He'd seen a lot of recruits, soldiers and even normal, office guys die in hospitals. Rather, “gave their lives bravely for a cause greater than them” - as ShinRa put it. But, that was just another part of his line of work. Just like filing some papers might be a part of anyone else's, losing people was commonplace for people like him.

It was the lingering, heavy silence that came after being told someone you knew, cared about or trained had died that Rude really hated. Funny, you would think someone like Rude would welcome some quietness around him. But the silences that befell a room when you heard news like that, or when you were stuck waiting for that news to come was...thick and busy with other people's emotions. It was as though everyone was thinking, 'Oh, shit. Here we go again.' And expected the five stages of grief to blast through them right there and then. They may as well have spoken or cried because Rude could hear everything they were thinking in how they paced a room, checked their watch every five seconds, tapped their foot, clicked their pens, ran hands through their hair, grit their teeth...it went on and on.

Rude stood silently and completely unmoving outside of Reno's hospital room as the doctors and nurses sewed him shut again. He stayed there, with his arms folded across his broad chest as time ticked on. He paced his breathing carefully, in and out. Tseng had gone off somewhere with the Cetra girl. Rude would no doubt receive a vague update on that later, but he couldn't care less about either of them. The plate being downed, the landing and getting to the hospital felt like it had been a week ago. Rude's eyes drooped behind his shades. He figured they had been in there for hours fixing him up. What the hell is taking so long? He was normally a patient man. Hell, how many times had he been on day long or week long stake-outs, waiting for a shot at his target? Too many to count. And nobody knew the meaning of patience until they'd been stuck in a room, eye pushed against the scope of a gun, waiting for the perfect moment...with Reno climbing all over them, waving beer in their faces, telling lame jokes, asking about who they liked and gossiping about everyone they knew. That was a true exercise in patience.

This? This was nothing...

Reno had looked so fucking small, washed out and weak in that damn gurney. The memory twisted his gut in anger towards those AVALANCHE kids. Reno was tall, strong with long, loose limbs and fucking fire coloured hair. Reno was an inferno that had no business looking like an ember. It made him feel all kinds of uncomfortable to hear Reno garbling like some confused, demented moron. Reno was nothing if not...deliberate. Anything he said or did, he did it with a purpose. Even if it was just to satisfy his own sick urge to be cruel or scare people. Rude felt his mouth twitch. If those kids were still alive, he – no, they were going to kill them for this. Turk style.

Hospitals always reminded Rude of his father. There had been times when he was all Rude could think about, but nowadays it wasn't as hard as it used to be to shake those memories from his mind. It had been, he counted, nearly twenty years since his old man had passed. Still, it had been a long time since he'd allowed himself to really think about his family and it wasn't as though thinking about Reno was doing him any good. Pa had been a pretty good dad, all things considered. He had been from Kalm and made sure Rude learned Standard perfectly (the language that most continents spoke) from a young age. Most people from Mideel could speak Standard, but they always had that Midelian accent. Rude didn't.

Pa had been a good fighter too. Rude wondered briefly if Pa would care about how he used those skills he taught him today; killing people and kidnapping people. Rude almost snorted. Like hell, he would. Pa was involved in sorts of questionable business. Rude hadn't really known much about it then, his mother was keen to protect him from all that. But he knew now. Nevertheless, Rude's Pa had been a man of the rainforest; yellow and green, sun and grass and fond of the bristly, hard things in life. What would he think of Rude now? Surrounded by the grey and smooth steel, tied up in a suit, whispering secrets and hiding in the dark, like a spider.

Rude was barely a teenager when his father had fallen ill. Mako poisoning was a rough way to go. Mideel was a beautiful, but pretty screwy place to grow up. People liked to pan it off as some paradise, and it was true in many ways. Especially for Rude, who always had been a bit of a home bird. Sun, beaches, good food. But, the water was dangerous, the fish was half poisonous with Mako, there were earthquakes all the time, and the rainforests were littered with drug cartels and their lackeys. Not exactly a paradise. Dying of Mako poisoning was at least quick. Rude's mother hadn't wanted him to see him, but his Pa had always liked gritty stuff. He would've wanted his teenager son to see him die, and face it like a man. His last memories of his father were of him spasmodic, garbling and choking on his own spit.

“Excuse me,” a nurse quipped. Rude almost jumped. “You – you can go in. He's going to have a long recovery, but we think he'll be fine.”

Rude nodded, grateful. The nurse moved away quickly from him.

He hesitated for a moment. Rude wasn't sure if he wanted to see Reno right now, in the condition he was in. Rude didn't like things changing, didn't like things being out of his norm at the best of times. He wasn't sure he could himself so tightly sewn together at the moment. He was exhausted from casting magic and at the same time, on a hype as adrenaline still coursed through him. As much as he trusted Reno, he needed his guard up around him. Reno had a way of...saying things or doing things when he knew Rude was the way he was now. Rude shook his head. He wasn't going to abandon his partner when he was all fucked up. Plus, Reno was pretty funny when he was high.

--

exp: 1557
total: 4001

(OOC: Again, tell me to change shit if I've godmodded yo' ass and ye didnae like it. Eeem, yeah, sorry it took so long. Work has been kicking my ass recently. Jingles, me and Numbs were talking and we said there wasn't much to do in the chopper so I sped things along a bit. Now we have TENDAH LOVIN :-| and Tseng will come back after Reno has passed out from all his drugs or whatever you choose. Also, Numbs thought it would be totally fucking hilarious if we RPed a dream Reno has while he's asleep and Rude is wearing a nurse uniform and just like...chillin' as if it's not even there. LOL, let me know what you think, fannybaws.)


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Reno
Posted: Mar 5 2012, 11:06 PM


Anklebiter


Group: Final Fantasy
Posts: 48
Member No.: 90
Joined: 6-April 11



Almost as much as Reno despised his beloved chopper being on autopilot, Reno abhorred hospitals. They stank of death in such a clinical way that people thought it civilised. The sterile stench clogged his nostrils full of chemicals. The beds were hard beneath his slender, firm body, causing knots and pains so deep he was unusually stiff for days. The entire building was white, from top to toe as though it would scare away infection, marching it out the door with a quick step. Quite frankly, white was boring, stark and plain just begging to be stencilled, graffitied and scribbled over. Once, Reno had done just that, sitting for hours, huddled in a corner next to his bed, happily writing whatever profanity his dark mind could conjure whilst high on morphine to find his hands strapped to the bed the next day and a scouring, yet gleeful looking nurse come in to check his vitals. Shame they hadn’t thought to strap his mouth shut, for only words which included ‘bitch’ and ‘kinky’ flowed from his thin pink lips. No one had been pleased about that particular time.
The white walls, the white everything, wasn’t the only thing that crawled beneath reno’s skin. It was just so boring. He had nothing to do, nothing to occupy his ever hyper aware mind with observations. He had nought but plain, clean (presumably) walls to stare at, and perhaps a duff television show to fill his mind with drivel. Reno did not bloom in stagnation. His creativity, an ever bound vibrant imagination with no outlet worked over time. Once free of his prison he would work over time to get all of the plots and plans he had devised out of his system. He was not a turk who thrived in purgatory, which for him a hospital was. It was best to allow his consequent rebellion to run its course for attempting to stop it would only spurn an anger causing a bigger uproar of pranks and traps and trips. Reno did not take kindly to anyone getting in the way of his fun.

More than anything he hated the feeling of being trapped. Reno was trapped inside the Turks yes, through necessity, through choice, through camaraderie and through loyalty. There was no place he would rather be in the whole wide world, so it was not a pain, a suffering nor a burden for Reno to be trapped inside the Turks. He thought them the best. He thought them proud and noble and above all else home. It was foolishly sentimental of him and the only sentimental luxury he afforded. They were thieves and murderers and abductors and torturers. Reno was in no doubt that being a Turk was a nasty business. Despite this he saw no reason for there not to be a reason to be proud. He did his work efficiently and he did it well. He was a great Turk, promoted to Rank of Second due to his confident social skills, his innovation under pressure and his sneaky way of dealing with the world. His infinity for causing trouble was an unfortunate baggage they had to take with it. Being a Turk allowed Reno to cause as much trouble as he liked (to a degree – there in lies the prison nature, you see), and granted him to dive into as much chaos as he liked. Mission bound of course, and whilst Reno complained about it he damn well did whatever he could to do it right and to do it well. He took his job seriously, just like he took breaking out of hospitals, annoying Rude and protecting Shinra.

He trusted the Turks to get him to hospital. So on the helicopter, battered, bruised and bleeding Reno felt no fear. He felt no panic. He never did when his life hung in the balance. Reno did not fear death. He understood what the life stream was, and the high chance he would be rejected from its embrace but he lived his life the way that suited him now, not for his possible future. He trusted the Turks to take care of him if they could. They were brothers in arms. They were comrades. They were friends, almost, though his only true friend was Rude of course. They were allies first, friends second, and perhaps even rivals third and enemies last. The only exception Reno had made was Rod, who was an ally first and an irritating spit of a human second. His dislike for the man could only be understood through the fact Reno still liked bloody Strife more than he liked that patronising imitator. He was gone now. Good. But Reno had helped Rod, when he had to, to keep him alive. Rod was a Turk and with it came a certain kind of status the world envied and feared. Reno didn’t so much as protect, as get your ass out of trouble when it was in so deep you were almost at the bottom: and he was good at it too. Of course, it came from his many experiences of getting himself out the seemingly bottomless pit of chaos he usually manage to land himself in. Sometimes Rude was there to scoop his ass out the firing line. Like now.

Reno trusted the Turks to save him on the rare occasions he needed it, but he also trusted them to not allow him to become a burden. If it arose he was to be collateral damage, or he had managed to do something so entirely stupid that he had to be cut loose then so be it. They were friends seconds, working colleagues first. It was the way it had to be. Reno trusted Tseng to be tolerant of his antics and Tseng trusted him to know where the line was and stop before he crossed it. The red-head trusted Tseng also to smack him on the gob when he deserved it too. In fact, the lithe man wanted him too. Reno pushed and he pushed but there was only so much a man could take.

The sad thing about Tseng was he was all about the job all the time. He was so cut off from his emotions that he was almost like a robot at times. Reno admired him greatly. He even loved him like a friend because it made his life more enjoyable to form a kind of attachment. Reno would grieve for Tseng’s death. He was not ashamed of holding more emotion that Tseng thought healthy or wise or strong for a Turk. In fact, he would disagree. Emotions gave you power. They drove you. They surged and bubbled and boiled and seethed. Reno’s anger got him into scrapes, but they got him out of more. His love for the Turks made him strive to always be better, to do better and to learn from mistakes with a passionate drive rather than a clinical need. Emotion was what kept Reno alive in body and in spirit. His heart and mind would perish without it. Perhaps on some level Tseng knew this. Perhaps he often forgot.

People thought that made him a weak Turk. So be it. They were fooled by the desire to help out a fellow Turk and Reno liked it that way. He liked that strangers, and even people who were supposed to know him thought him silly, and stupid, and foolish and too soft. One only had to stop and think about it to know it wasn’t true. Rude would tell you: Reno’s a cold hearted bastard; and a cruelly inventive one at that. His sadistic streak he often hides well, but if you think him a lesser Turk than you, perhaps you should watch him interrogate an informant, Rude would say. There was malice inside Reno. There was cruelty, nastiness and a taste for it too. Reno was good at pain: dishing it and taking it. How can you break a man who’s already a little broken? How can you twist him out of shape when he’s already skewed that way? There are few things that Reno really cares for in this world: sex, beer, the Turks and Rude. The only one he’s not sure he could live without is Rude, and that’s dangerous. He had to be careful. Reno suspects Tseng knows it too. And he can’t afford to be split from Rude. Sometimes Reno thinks he’s the only thing keeping him sane. Sometimes, Reno thinks he’d fall apart without him. Sometimes, Reno thinks, if they lost Rude they’d lose him too, whether through a crazy stunt only Rude could have anticipated and/or handled or because he actually took a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. His dedication to Rude was scary. And yet, if he had to, damn it, he’d still put a bullet through the man’s brains.

And Reno loved pushing Rude. He liked seeing him mad (it was so damn sexy and just a little bit terrifying too, enough to give Reno a spark of a thrill). He did it most often when he was high though, because his creativity went weird and strange and there was no filter between his mouth and his brain. He often hit on Rude, quite graphically too sometimes, when high off his ass. Strangely he always managed to stop when there was others around, which was something the light turk had never managed to figure out. Reno’s best guess it was his self preservation instinct kicking in. Even hallucinating he’d recognise a threat. A change in air temperature can wake him up when he’s sleeping unless he’s drugged or injured. Like now.

Reno’s eyes fluttered open, nasal tubes stuck up his nose gave him an instant irritance. His eyes squinted weakly, glaring at the stark fuzzy white. He lifted a hand finding it weaker than he expected. He knew he was in hospital, but couldn’t remember why. He frowned, his ginger eyebrows moving closer together and down on his brow. He shifted and groaned in pain, his chest tightening in protest. He should just lie here then. Then it came to him. Oh yes, the helicopter. He must have passed out on the ride here because Reno couldn’t remember seeing it. He would have protested if he had. Even dying Reno would still say no to a doctor. Stuck on a mission with Cissnei gone wrong it had driven the girl mad. She had talked so sternly Reno had shut up in surprise. For a tiny woman, gentle in ways, she was sure scary when she wanted to be. (Actually, he was more he was put out that she was getting the better hand in the situation than he was. But she was a damn fine Turk and that was what counted). ”Is the wind flying in the wrong direction?” Reno asked, thinking he was asking how he was and not realising he came out with a mangled sailing, or atmospherical quip.

EXP: 1872
Total: 5447

NOTES: Apologies for the delay. I thought Numbers was going to post next? And if so I apologise for jumping the queue happy.gif
Rude
Posted: Mar 14 2012, 10:08 PM


Greentike


Group: Inactive
Posts: 13
Member No.: 540
Joined: 11-December 11



Rude walked in quietly, almost warily. He wasn't afraid, or even particularly uncomfortable but he was still very conscious of every sound he made. The squeak of his shiny shoes against the sterile, vinyl flooring, the click of the door as it closed behind him, the rustle of his pressed clothing as he shifted to the gurney type bed in the centre of the room, all of it punctuated by the eerie beeb from the medical monitor. The bald man glanced at the machine briefly, the numbers and coloured lines communicating little to him.

Reno's bloodied, limp form almost took him by surprise again. Although he was still covered in Reno's blood, and had prepared himself to see the extent and consequences of the redhead's serious injuries, Rude felt something inside himself pull, and at the same inflame. He had half a dozen tubes doing Gods-knew-what sticking out of him, his thin, white gown already stained from his still slightly oozing wounds. The bald man firmly pushed all previous thoughts of his past and his father from his mind. Reno was injured, not sick, he told himself, and he was going to be okay. But still, despite the fact that he, himself, had been hurt in the past, Reno had been hurt and the Turks from...long before had all been hurt, Rude still carried an ill notion in his head that they were untouchable. Seeing his shrunken, helpless partner stitched together in a hospital suddenly gave an unpleasant shake to how he saw himself, and his choices. Hell, he was tired.

The redhead's blue eyes fluttered open and focussed a little better at Rude's entrance. He mumbled something incoherent. Rude smirked. He was crazy high off his stupid ginger ass. Rude instantly felt relief at seeing him look around, a little more aware than before. He sighed through his nose. Reno had a way of being a little fast and loose with his mouth (and hands) when his inhibitions were lowered. Hell, he was like that even when he was as sober as a judge, but Reno knew that Rude had a certain propensity to indulge the redhead's attentions when shit was serious and tensions were high. As tired as he was now, Rude wasn't sure he had the energy to bat off whatever Reno had been trying to tell him for a while.

“Hey,” he said lowly, hesitant to disturb the man when he needed rest. Rude sat down in the worn chair by the bed, elbows on knees. “You...okay,” he finished rather lamely.

-----

NOTES: Nah, Jingles, Tseng is out of the picture (playing with Aeris) until Reno has passed out for the night or we're done with our side of it. Then he's gonna come back and chew on me for being a giant pussy.

Right, I know I'm hinting at some stuff in this post, and obviously you do whatever you think Reno would, but I would prefer it if you didn't write a love confession of something here without us planning it out or something. Cause how would that work if Rude isn't ready etc etc, how would they be partners if it was awkward, or does Rude have time to think on it while Reno recovers, but then why would Reno ask Rude who he fancies later on? You see where I'm going, lol, so if you do wanna go down that road, let's IM about it first so we can bash our headcanons off each other.

Also, sorry this is so short! I wasn't sure what else to write about without repeating myself. D'oh! xxxxx


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Reno
Posted: Apr 4 2012, 02:51 PM


Anklebiter


Group: Final Fantasy
Posts: 48
Member No.: 90
Joined: 6-April 11



Reno was pretty much on this side of the line: the one in pain and making everyone else wait for the verdict. The one time had been in the waiting room he had nearly destroyed it because of the sheer anxious frustration he had felt. Not to mention the fact the doctors kept looking at him like he was a ticking time bomb or going to give them rabies. It wasn't like he was going to actually bite the fuckers. The only person he wanted to bite was Rude, damn it, but he wasn't allowed to do that because the guy still thought he was straight. He had pretty much ignored whatever talk Tseng had given him then. Rude was his partner and he loved him. he didn't care if that made him weak. Reno didn't think it made him weak. He thought it made him pretty strong thank you very much. It wasn't like his life revolved around Rude. Loving Rude, he had to admit, was a side story and he wouldn't allow anyone to think otherwise. He could do his job just fine whilst thinking the guy was hot and caring about what happened to him. He'd leave him behind if he thought it was the only way: but then he'd do the same damn thing to Tseng and the guy knew that too. Reno was able to make hard decisions no matter how he felt about the people involved. Most of the Turks thought it wise not to get that close, but Reno didn't get it. the Turks were the only family they were ever going to have, so why not care about them? Being human wasn't a bad thing. You could be a monster and still have feelings at the same time. Reno did it with alarming efficiency.

But even if he was hurt, Reno was still waiting. He was waiting for someone to come visit him with news of the mission he was on when the pain started. He was waiting for his partner to come see him, because thank God Rude was alive and that was all that mattered. Well, not all, because the success of the mission was paramount and that was always the first or second thing out his fat gob. The rest of the world could burn in hell as long as the mission was complete and Rude was alive and maybe Tseng was all right too. Reno's priorities were straight. They might not match a normal person's but he knew what was important and what wasn't. The mission was what mattered. Keeping your partner safe was what mattered. Guarding the President with your life was what mattered, as was protecting the interests of the Company above and beyond the call of duty. Well, for a Turk, there wasn't actually an 'above and beyond'. You did what you did and you did what you were told because you had to or it was your head on the chopping block. No one wanted that. Reno sure as hell wasn't going to get killed for not following an order. He did what he had to survive and they all knew it. Sometimes it was a screw you, I'm surviving world and there was no shame in that. Guys like AVALANCHE didn't understand that for people to be on top others had to suffer - and usually a lot. They really had to get a grip with the world.

But none of that mattered when you were flat out on your back in the hospital feeling weak as a kitten (which could probably beat you in a fight) with tightness around your chest. He didn't feel any pain because of the meds, which was good because then he'd be a real bitch, but other than that...he felt uncomfortable. It was like a small child was happily sitting on his chest quite unaware of their weight - perhaps their parents told them they were adorable and cute but they were biased f*****s so what did their opinion count? Reno shuffled and groaned, groggy from whatever it was they gave them and happpy. He could see reflections play on Rude's head and he may have happily slapped him in the head with a weak hand. "Rude my chest is stitched together with string," he said, which wasn't exactly true but it did feel as though he was being held together with bandages. " 'M wooden boy, not a real one to be hurt. The toy broke," he rambled because, well, what else was there to do? He was dying to get out already, moving restlessly, agitated at the thought of being clamped inside white slick walls, white white white white.

"Why am I at the mercy of scissor hand, claw skin and jabbity jab?" Reno asked. "Why you do this to me? Do you hate me that much?" he asked. He hated doctors, nurses and hospitals. He associated them with helplessness, vulnerability and weakness and pity. It wasn't the pain. Reno could handle pain. He liked pain. Torture only had the effect of releasing endorphins for him so you were probably making him scream for all the wrong reasons. "Where's the pink girl?" For some reason that was important: why?

Words: 874
total exp: 6324
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