Blue Suits 'n Shades
Noon. Lunch hour. The end of the morning. To many, it involved going out for lunch, making a pass at a secretary, or conveying useless information in a desperate bid to seem as though the larger portion of ShinRa employees were not, in fact, lifeless zombies living off of paychecks and reports. For the Turks, however...
... it meant Reno was about to arrive hung over. Rude, senior member of the Turks, second only to Tseng in experience, glanced at his watch. He was later than usual, which was odd. The two of them lived in a dorm on the 14th floor. He was almost certain he stole the younger man's pillow before he left.
"Hey, Rude!" A young voiced called. He glanced over. Elena.
"What?" He asked, unenthusiastically.
The blonde woman glanced around, before leaning over his desk, conspiratorially. "Reno's now showing up, is he?"
"Dunno."
She got up and stretched. "He'd better. Tseng's gonna tear him a new... whatever the hell."
Rude stared at his report on their latest operation blandly. To quote it exactly, "Encountered hostiles. Disposed of them. Reno got drunk." Running a hand over his bald head, he made a decision.
"Whatever. I'll get him," he stated, then headed for the door. Desk jobs suck, he mentally noted.
"I'll come!"
The eager blond woman fell in step behind him, trying to look intimidating in her smart blue suit. The illusion was shallow, at best. They stepped into the elevator. Rude stabbed in the 14th floor.
Stepping out, they were treated to a shock. Tseng stood before them, arms crossed.
"So good to see you," he greeted. "Picking up Reno, are we?"
The two stared on, unable to find their voices. Finally, Elena managed to spit out an answer.
"Yes, sir."
The bald man nearly called her a traitor on the spot and made a run for it. His calm demeanor betrayed none of his. "He went out for lunch. We figured we'd see how he's doing, what with the broken arm and all," he smoothly lied, hoping Elena could tell a lie for the life of her.
The hotheaded man's encounter with AVALANCHE had left his left arm broken. He hadn't let them see him bleed, opting to get the hell out of there. Either way, he was what he himself referred to as a cripple, in his sober spells.
"Is that so..?" Tseng asked, viciously calm. When he used that perfect, calm voice, him and Reno knew not to screw around. Elena, moron extra ordinaire, was rendered a dreamy teen however. In this state, she was prone to telling the man anything he wanted to know. Anything. Elena's idiocy was his secret weapon.
Sweat dripped down Rude's forehead. "Yup," he managed, then stepped around the man, heading for the dorm. As soon as he rounded the hall, beyond sight, he turned on a full sprint. Eight rooms down, he came to a full, desperate halt. His key slipped into the slot, and he hopped into the room.
The smoke filled room. He recognized the distinct smell from his college years. What had once been stress became full out panic. He, Elena, and Reno especially, were screwed. Hard. They every proverbial orifice was about to bleed. And on the couch, the injured man brought the joint to his mouth. "Mulligan..." he whined quietly.
"Yo, man! Sup?" He asked nonchalantly. The pot had gotten to him.
With the single dullest voice the far from emotional man could muster, Rude professed their impending doom. Which was such a marvellous thing, after all. "We told Tseng you were out for lunch. He's on his way."
The look on Reno's face reflected how he felt. "How soon?"
Rude's shades were fogging up. "... about thirty feet by his walking speed. And Elena's with him."
The narcotic filled rolling paper was brought to the man's mouth again, and he put all his possible force into finishing it.
"What the hell are you doing!" Rude nearly bellowed.
"Dying happy," the fiery haired man calmly replied.
The door swung open. In an attempt to catch the two off guard, Tseng had simply stood outside the doorway, looking imposing. However, as the acrid smoke billowed out of the room and into his and Elena's faced, it was he who was caught off guard. Ah, such sweet irony. "Mulligan..." he repeated, exhasperated and awaiting doom.
"Is that..?" Elena managed to gasp out.
Tseng face twitched once. For emotion to play across his face... the younger two did their utter best to not desecrate their pants. "... had me some of the best damn sushi on the upper plate. Shit smells like drugs, eh?" Reno tried.
At that point, even Rude was forced to stare at him lamely.
"Not cool, man," he bitched to his bald comrade, who just shook his head condescendingly.
Tseng coughed once, waving the smoke out of his face. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to get that reek out of my suit, or my hair?" He demanded calmly.
Reno's head fell back, and he twitched his eyelids a few times in deep thought. He looked back towards his senior. "I dunno, a half hour?"
"It doesn't fucking matter, because I've a goddamn meeting with Heidegger in a few minutes!" He snapped, his cool demeanor lost. Elena stepped away from him, and Rude stepped out of his direct line of sight. " I don't think so. While I'm putting up with that miserable old shit, I'll be thinking of where to shoot you."
"It's medicinal!" Reno blurted, terrified.
"It'll be your death. So much for medicinal, eh?" Tseng threatened, before pivoting on his heels and making his exit.
The three stood there, dumbstruck at what just happened. Well, despite Reno. He was dumbstruck before they all showed up. On that topic, Rude turned to him. "... weak. Seriously weak."
Reno just shrugged, waving it off with his good arm. "I've gotten him more pissed than this, man. You want some?"
That sentence was followed immediately by a desperate lunge off of the couch, dodging a half hearted left jab from Rude. "Not cool, man," he bitched, looking somewhat lost. He got up and smiled. "I'm demolished, man," followed by a fit of giggles was his clairvoyant view on his own situation. He walked off towards their small fridge. "You guys want something?"
"You got a coke?" Elena asked. Rude forced himself not to smash his head off anything.
"Life insurance," the bald man requested. Tifa flashed before his eyes once. Someone he wanted to see 'fore he died. 'Course she was enemy now, so life was a bitch.
The younger man came back grinning, eyes bloodshot. "Something in the fridge, man," he retorted, then laughed at his own inebriated wit.
"So, what now?" Elena asked, cracking open the cold soft drink.
"We do what the Turks are best at." Rude decided.
The three stood there, deep in thought.
Elena was the first to guess. "We kill him?"
"No."
Reno tried his luck, which was terrible at the moment. "We get piss drunk."
"Whereas we're good at that... no."
"Ah, fuck."
The other two shared a confused glance, and shrugged. Reno dropped back onto the couch, munching away on a cold hotdog. "So what's the plan, big man?"
Rude, abusing his vocabulary, stated his obviously ingenious plan. "We flee."
A silence passed between them. Shameful memories of running like the wind passed between them. Eventually, Reno found the heart to break how he felt to his friend. "Dude, your plan sucks. We go AWOL, we get soldiers sent after us. We get caught, we get tossed in prison or some crap, and Tseng's gotta report that the entire Turks outfit is... uh... what?" he trailed off, spacing out.
The only woman in the room cleared her throat a little, getting Rude's attention. "We really don't want to embarrass Tseng that bad, do we?"
"... or get shot."
The miscreant cause of this problem choked down the last of his cold treat, then got his obligatory blue jacket. He slid his arms through, completing his overall look. "See, sis?" He asked tauntingly. "This is how a Turk's supposed to look."
He finished with a wink and left in search of his infamous Nightstick. He came back empty handed, his face puzzled. "Yo, man. Where'd I leave mah' stick?"
T he bald man fixed his gloves and thrust his chin towards the coat rack. His faithful weapon was indeed hanging off of the coat rack. In his stupor, he grabbed it and swung it around a few times. "Cool," he barked, grinning.
"So, why the hell are you on drugs?" Rude finally asked.
Reno straightened his suit and stood in with unusually good posture. "So there we were, me and that one guy from engineering. I was totally plastered, and he pulled out a baggie and told me this shit makes the pain go away. I only got one good arm, and I ain't got my judgement turned on, so I figure, hell? What's some drugs in the system. So we got blitzed. Yesterday, man, after work we ran into the men's room and smoked 'er up. He sold me a joint and here we are, about to be shot by Tseng."
"My first week on the job... I hate you, so badly." Elena informed him.
She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, trying to express her rage properly. "You might lose me my job, and get me shot by my boss. What the hell is wrong with you!"
"Heh, I don't know whether I should knock you down a peg or kiss you, princess," he sneered. "You only got the job 'cause I got busted up. Now let's get the hell out of here 'fore the boss feeds us lead."
That said, Rude opened the door to potential freedom, to endless adventure, and risks. His cellphone rang and killed the moment at the precise perfect timing. An impeccable employee with a drinking problem, he answered.
"Sir?"
Blond and redhead alike stared on, agape at his stupidity.
"Understood," he finally said, and hung up. "Tseng's got a chopper ready to take us to Kalm. We're hunting down Sephiroth and putting an end to AVALANCHE. Oh, and Reno? You're too busted up. You get a week off."
There was only one thing left to be said.
"Cool." A job was a job, and when it came down to it, they were Turks.
Soon to be drunkly on their way Turks.