Chapter: Two -- "Reno has a different Spin"
Last Edit Date: 01.03.2005
Warnings: R for blood, cussing, violence ref: Turk); a scientist; gay henchmen; and Cloud being OOC.
,;;,pyramid!,;;,
This was most possibly the worst hangover he'd ever had -- and he had a lot of them, so that was really saying something. The light was too bright, he was sick to his stomach, and if those damned footsteps got any closer he was going to reach for his gun -- or nightstick, which ever his hands found first -- and brutally sever those feet from the annoying person they were attached to. Didn't this guy know better than to storm around when someone -- especially a Turk, ex- or no -- had a hangover?
Something almost sharp dug into his back.
That was the last straw.
He was grateful for his own speed and reflexes, because it was only a split second after grabbing the offending object and jerking that damned person face first into the bars that the headache pounced and tried to murder him. He grit his teeth painfully, leaning back against the cold bars behind him, idly studying the guy he's just knocked dizzy.
What was it about this situation that seemed completely wrong?
A wash of caged feelings swept over him, reminiscent of feral days in his past, and even with the fog of what he now knew to be drugs hanging over him, he understood. He had been ambushed, had fought most of them off, but there had been too many. A foul, oily smell that still clung to the back of his throat, and now he was caged -- as an animal.
Dammit, he'd only been going out for a drink! He's plans had been simple enough -- get drunk, find a willing lady, and head back to the home he shared with his two friends. They were retired! Why was someone kidnapping him now? He ran down a mental check-list, but nowhere could he find a mark that would mean that someone important was pissed at him -- he was sure never to cause any trouble with the rich bastards simply because he was no longer in Turks and didn't have that safety net to fall on when things got out of hand.
He had no weapon except his body, though he still had his clothing -- rumpled khakis, white short-sleeve button-up over a muscle-shirt, and a dark blue jacket. To his chagrin and slight amusement, they'd even taken away his shades and his shoes -- nice shiny ones; they were new and not even broken in, something he wished he could have done before they were taken. What was he going to do? Did they think he was going to kill himself with the shoestrings? Or stab him in the ear with the shades? Hardly! Reno was a survivor, and he had no say in the matter.
Seeing as how the guy's bloody face was beginning to make his stomach churn, he glanced around the room. It was white, and sterile smelling. Huge, like a cargo room, and he easily spotted where the main door was. There was hardly any color in the room expect for --
Oh, HELL no.
Sprawled across the bottom of another cage nearby, there was a body with blond hair. Hair that he remember too well --
Bright light coming down, blinding as it reflected off blond and pale skin -- leisurely movements and bright flash of light off blue as the person turned, unconcerned -- eyes that weren't natural, that glowed and then flashed as light hit them again --
Reno shook his head slightly. He would be lying if he said it wasn't poetic how the two had been haloed in light in the deathly calm of a church. Was that foreshadowing or what? The last time he'd seen that man, the eyes were dark with concerns, but that makou made them glow in the tunnel, high-lighting the grim set of those features --
Gods, how he hated those eyes -- hated the body -- hated the person that the body belonged to.
Reno abruptly decided that there wasn't anything to stare at, so he began glaring at the wall.
… Glaring at walls is very boring . . .
Maybe he should try glaring harder?
Ow! Maybe he wouldn't. He didn't know that he could actually hurt himself just by glaring…
Well, at least Blondie had stopped wearing that rag-tag periwinkle uniform, right? He's gotten enough sense to wear better clothing, though he could have chosen better than black pants and the sleeveless turtleneck to match. Heh, they'd taken away his shoes, too. Go figure. Besides that, the man was the same as ever. Really, though, blonds shouldn't wear black. Elena had tried that once and it just came off all wrong.
"Yo, Blondie, you look like a Goth-wannabe. Suck it up and get over it. While you're at it, get a hair-stylist, whydoncha." he muttered, though he knew the man couldn't hear him. He felt kinda stupid -- like he was talking to himself -- and gave the blond an ugly look. Well, he couldn't say much as far as hair was concerned actually, since he rarely brushed his own and it never stayed that way when he did. It had gotten some length, though, and now he'd catch it between chairs and himself when he lounged.
He slid further down the bars, though it didn't help much. There just really wasn't anyway that you could get comfortable on steel, right?
"Hey!" Reno barked suddenly, half surprising himself. "Can't you get some chairs in here if you're gonna kidnap me?"
Then, nearly scaring him enough to jump, a door slid open, and a woman swept in with two large hulking men at her elbows. Great, here was the mastermind behind this all, and she even had henchmen. How typical is that?
"Wow, Queen bitch." Reno remarked, somehow greatly amused despite the gravity of the situation. "Please. Do you get your wardrobe and make up from 'evil Villains anonymous'?"
It was true though; the woman -- she couldn't be much more than thirty -- was wearing a black netted top over a bra, a short skirt of shiny vinyl -- Tifa's skirt had never been that short for cryin' out loud! -- and black thigh-highs kept in place with a safety-pin chain to her skirt. But what mad scientist would be complete without the stark white jacket? She had the small oval glasses perched on her nose, dark hair pinned back in a bun, and almost black eyes -- not to mention the over-applied purple eye shadow and thick red lipstick. It was enough to make his stomach churn, and he mock-gagged, testing her.
She just smirked at him. Smirked at him! Wasn't that against the law somewhere? It was slightly amazing how fast he was losing his patience. Granted, Reno had never been one with much in the patience department, but she was using up quicker than anyone else ever had, even Strife.
"Subject Two." she purred. "Up and ready after five hours under strong chloroform."
Reno's eyes widened, ignoring the 'subject' part. Chloroform? They took that off the market after it caused a few too many deaths via accidental overdose ... damn it! What the fuck were they doing? Really, it shouldn't bother him much since he usually tried to fry this brain cells himself with alcohol... but it did, and he knew why. Too much of his life, he had control ripped from his grasping hands. It instilled a very paranoid independence in him, and he didn't like it when what control he had was taken from him.
The woman turned from him, back toward the other body on the ground.
"Subject One still unconscious." she remarked, tsking. She turned to the man behind her. "How many ccs of tranquilizers did you give him? Jenova should have wiped it out."
"Twice the recommended. He wouldn't drop, Ms. Z." The man said quietly.
She tsked once more, and then spun on one high-heel, heading for the fallen guard. Reno was actually very surprised she didn't fall on her ass or at least break her neck. She jerked up the rod from the floor, striding back to the other cage. Reaching between two bars, she didn't even get the rod close.
Muscles barely even twitched before the man was off the floor and bouncing off the back of the cage. He careened around it blindly, recoiling from the rod without even seeing it. Then, it was as if a light flipped on.
"YOU FILTHY BITCH!"
Reno's eyes widened. He'd never heard the blond scream, right alone cuss. Then again, he had never seen the blond this emotional before -- the man was usually a statue for all emotion he showed, granting it wasn't indignation. That was one state of being the blond was marvelous at displaying.
"What in the fuck do you think you'll accomplish?" Cloud Strife continued on ranting pace. "What do you think you can get from me?"
"Why, Subject One, I'd thought you'd be used to being in this position." She replied coolly. "Now, if you don't mind, its almost your stop."
The small blond hissed with displeasure, settling against the bars as far from the woman as he could, much as Reno had. Reno harrumphed his displeasure and leaned his head back against the bars. It was almost as if the gods decided it wasn't bad enough that he was forced to remember that the stupid fuck existed; now that spiky bastard was going to copy him. Reno was getting fed up with those nigh-and-mighty bastards. Oh, for cryin' out loud!
As bored as Reno was, the next bit was inevitable. "Hey, Strife, meet our generic villain -- Look! She even dressed the part! Doctor Z, meet our generic Hero -- he's not dressed to the part, but I'm sure if he knew you were going to kidnap him --"
"Shut up, Reno." Strife growled, glaring at him.
"Hey, I already talked to you, I'm talking to her now. Be quiet while I finish the introductions -- Ms. Z might get the idea that you're not the subject she wants."
The blond stared at him balefully. "If she picked me for why I think she picked me, I don't think she has much of a choice."
Reno quirked an eyebrow at that statement, but plowed on, not one to be put off track. "Now! As I was saying, I'm sure Strife would have been perfectly happy to drag his old hero outfit out of the trunk in the attic and not only dress but act the part of the muchly put-upon hero. Sadly, I am a stubborn bastard, and you should have gotten Rude if you really wanted the generic Turk."
"Actually," Z said, grinning. "I am quiet sure that I want you as my other subject; however, I do thank you for your concerns!"
Strife smirked at him, and Reno gave the blond an annoyed look; however, the conflict that might have developed was nipped in the bud, as the room shivered violently, and it was realized they were in an airship that was quiet definitely heading somewhere.
"What exactly are we lined up for anyway?" Strife demanded. A quick glance revealed that the blond was nearly in a ball, his eyes glowing out at the bitch from between his knees and just over his arms.
"Not that you knowing will change anything, but I'm curious to your reaction. The whole idea of my kidnapping you and Subject Two is to determine just how much more advanced you are. We'll be depositing you on a newly-born island, absolutely filled with little things that would love to eat either of you." she purred, smirking.
"Oh, well this is grand." Reno complained, rolling his eyes. "I get to be the control. You know, you really could have chosen a better control variable -- like the chick with the chest. Or even that guy with the arm thing. Better yet, the kleptomaniac that needs to wear more clothing -- could have done off with two annoying bastards. Wait, I like this idea better -- could you do a pirouette, break a heel, and die?"
"Oh, shut the fuck up, Reno." Strife snarled. "If it were anyone else than you, her experiment would be screwed. I'd help whoever I was stuck with."
"Yeah, I love you, too, Prickles."
"Ooh, nice nickname."
"The short version is Prick."
"So I guessed."
A pen scratched across paper. "Subject Two's estimated lifetime expectancy: two weeks. Cause: Over-emotionality, maybe Subject One."
"What?" Reno demanded, blinking at her. "He couldn't kill me! Really, ask anyone! Every bet would go on me winning."
The man in question snorted. "I think this may be more serious than a street fight, Reno. Ignore her. She's doing it to provoke you, and you know that. Turks outta know psychological torture well enough."
"Strife, would you shut up or focus on her or something?"
Strife's head lifted briefly to give Reno a neon stare. Then the glow dimmed a bit, and Strife rolled forward, crawling toward the front of the steel bars. His lips pulled into a smirk, and he pulled himself up by the bars into a crouched position, leaning heavily against them.
"Soo," he drawled. "Dr. Z, is it? Just how thorough was that physical exam I'm sure you gave me?"
Whoa. Reno didn't know Strife had it in him. That may explain how he became a SOLDIER even though for the most part he seemed a little frail. As for Dr. Z, she was blinking in a mildly startled fashion at the man in question. Then she suddenly broke into a grin.
"Thorough enough that I am quiet aware of your physical abilities, and your measurements. All of them." she said wolfishly.
Reno watched in fascination as the suave over-sexed air disappeared from Strife. Strife's eyes became comically wide, and he suddenly went limp against the bars. "You what?" he squeaked. His face turned almost as red as Reno's hair, which was no easy feat. "Aw, now com'n, did you have to go and do that?"
"So what?" Reno asked, scooting forward in his cell toward the bitch. "Is he horribly under developed or what? Why is he so embarrassed?"
"This isn't funny!" Strife yelled loudly. "This is worse than the other time!"
Ignoring the outraged blond, Z simply smirked at Reno. "While I may oversee all the examinations, I do not perform them."
"I got molested by hulking gay men! AGAIN! Why am I always molested by gay men?" Strife wailed.
Reno suddenly understood the blond's reaction, but couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Because straight men wouldn't want to molest you. Though I have to admit, after seeing that last episode you just had, I can't see why you're wondering why they want to."
"Oh, shut up, would you?" Strife snarled, lunging at him and coming up short as he bounced off the cage. "You understand, huh? Just how well, Reno-babe? Is it getting warm in here for you?"
Reno blinked at Strife incredulously for a moment. Slowly, he turned back to the 'doctor'. "Z, you can't leave me anywhere with him! Did you see that? The guy's insane! And considering I'm the control, he's the tested variable, so I don't think you really want me to kill him because he has another spaz attack."
"I'll spaz attack you!" Strife yelled, through Reno could tell the blond wasn't really paying attention anymore as he retreated to a corner. Reno tightened his grip on the bars, turning back to the woman bent on ruining their lives.
"Listen, Z, I'd love to be your control, but I really don't think that's such a good idea what with sticking me with the psycho. Seriously, now, he's gonna end up killing me, and then where would you be?"
"Sending one of my henchmen down," she answered easily, arching an eyebrow. "But I'd prefer you as a control. I'll make it worth your while to get off that island alive."
"Honey, baby, sweet-thing from heaven above, you don't have enough money to get me off this plane and around Blondie. You see, I do know what damage he's capable of, and I really don't want to be in anywhere near him when he gets pissed off. He might not have anything in the way of deception or strategy, but when Prickles gets pissed, a lot of things die, and not much is left standing."
"Looks like you have a healthy dose of self-preservation." Z said -- almost as if it were a compliment. Meanwhile, the object of their conversation was sulking in the far corner of his cage.
"Who doesn't?" Reno demanded. "It sounds like you know his little adventure, so I don't know why you're surprised."
"I'm perfectly aware of his past, and why did you think I have him behind bars? I want you both alive, though damage is not important. It might make it more interesting ... " Z trailed off, a glazed look in her eyes. Reno grimaced, not really wanting to know what she was thinking.
"So, was Strifey right about your reasons for choosing me?" he asked idly. He really didn't care, but was also bored out of his mind, and the other man didn't seem like a good candidate.
"Close enough." Z answered, focusing back on him. "One of the reasons was because you two were assured to have a personality conflict."
"Wonderful." he remarked sardonically, suddenly feeling the aircraft slowing down. "Is this our stop?"
"Of that," she said in an irritatingly chipper manner. "You can be assured."
,;;, Reno! Whee!,;;,
Z stood by as the men lowered the two -- still in their cages -- onto the ground outside. She checked a few nearby machines, taking note of the air pressure and temperature. "A storm is coming," she said, jotting that piece of information down. "That should make this slightly more interesting.
"Are you sure the guys won't kill each other?" a teenager asked, slouching out of sight in the cargo hold.
"I chose my children well -- you would do nicely to remember that." she responded, but the words had no bite. She turned enough to smile at him. "They'll survive if they manage to work together."
"And if they don't?" he asked, though his voice was apathetic. Z knew better than to expect the boy to really care what happened to her two subjects.
"Then you'll get to make new toys," she said. "Real toys. You like that, don't you?"
A brilliant grin lit up his face. "Real ones? Not just one's you've pulled off the streets? From scratch?"
"From scratch, I promise. But don't go trying to kill my children just so you can play." Her warning fell on deaf ears as the teen was already babbling to himself, retreating back to his lab. Z smiled fondly after him. "That child…"
She turned back to the men as they were boarding the ship. "You do have them secured, correct?" she asked briskly.
"Of course, Ms. Z." the nearest one said. "We do as Ms. Z asks."
"Of course you did!" she purred happily. "He did such excellent work on your genes ... a pity he's spiteful and crippled your reproduction instincts ... oh well, boys will be boys!"
The hulking men followed after her as she started for the airship's lobby, closing the massive door and immersing the room in darkness that was not quiet pitch black. There was a rumble as the airship started, and the floor shook as it lifted into the air.
In the blackness, a slender form moved, silent and nimble. Lips twisted to form a sneaky smirk.
"Cloudy, are you in trouble or what?"
,;;,TOBECONTINUED,;;,
Reno: Abso-fucking-lutely wonderful. Where in the fuck did this idea come from anyway?
Just thought it would be amusing to stick Reno and Cloud on an island full of monsters and have them engage in a knock-down-drag-out fight. n.n They has such beautiful personality conflicts together! See?!
Reno: ...
Cloud: Oh, fuck off.
Reno: DIE! (pounces on him)
X.x; if parts seem not to match up, remember that Reno doesn't know everything about what happened in the game. (Such as Cloud really never was in SOLDIER, the Jenova-infection, ect.)