MHA #1, Aka Reno _And_ Rikku-Land, Friday Evening

[the_merriest]

Reno had assured her that she didn't need to clean for Rude, that Rude was used to his messes, but Rikku liked cleaning. She hadn't seen Rude in ages! This was going to be fun!

The place was decidedly cozier than Rude would probably be expecting. What with all the cheery decor and the orange fluffy bathmat. There weren't even any empty beer bottles or porno mags on the coffee table.

Just an Al Bhed girl, puttering around while Reno ran out for more supplies. Which she hoped didn't mean more beer and pornos. But, well. It was Reno.

(This will be the site of an unholy sort of Turks Reunion, featuring several versions of some of the people involved, no less. But the very first thread is for Tseng alone, please, even though it's Rude she's expecting.)

Comments

[turk_mailman]

There were some things that, it would seem, even the most careful of Turks couldn't conceal. That he was a man who had been through a good many things that no man should ever have to endure... that was etched quite plainly into every facet of who he was, if only the people observing him knew what to look for.

And there was guilt there, as well. But that, at least, he was far more adept at hiding away.

The fact that he was well aware that he was being studied, however, was no secret at all. And he'd even allow Rosalind her moment to stare, before finally turning to face her, to look her square in the eye, and offer a slight, almost friendly sort of nod.

Almost. Of course.

[give-areason.livejournal.com]

Almost, quite naturally.

Rosalind was going to... not look away. That was a good start, wasn't it?

And since he would either expect an answer or not and she had to decide which was the right way to handle this--though Rosalind was almost certain that there was no right way--and then she realized with a sort of unexpected floundering in logic that she had absolutely no idea what to call this man who was her boss, but who wasn't her boss.

"Sir," she replied. 'Sir' was a nice and safe option.

[turk_mailman]

'Sir' would be adequate. Really, he couldn't expect her to refer to him as 'Director,' could he? While it was his title, he wasn't her Director, after all.

"Rosalind," he greeted, finding it far easier to pick a word to address her by, for whatever reason. "And how are you enduring this island, thus far?"

It was like small talk. Only... It wasn't.

[give-areason.livejournal.com]

That was an interesting choice of words.

Enduring.

Her eyes lingered on the two Elenas, rather than the two Tsengs, for a moment. "There have been... complications," she allowed. "Though I would not say I've been managing poorly."

Instead, she'd gotten hooked on stupid faery books. Shiva help her.

[turk_mailman]

And if that was something that this Tseng in particular had found out, he'd have it in mind to personally congratulate the individual that got her reading them.

"That's good to hear," he replied, simply. "As I suppose you can gather, I'm not a stranger to those complications, myself."

Fandom had followed Reno home, last year. And had been giving him a headache for at least the past two.

[give-areason.livejournal.com]

"I would say that you handle them quite well," she answered, having watched his conversation with her Tseng with interest. "I suppose practice makes perfect?"

Please?

[turk_mailman]

"Practise makes for improvement," Tseng replied, evenly. "If there's anything approaching perfection to be had where this island is concerned, I have yet to witness it."

Oh, he didn't like this place at all.

[give-areason.livejournal.com]

Rosalind wasn't sure entirely what to make of that response.

... She suspected that would be a common feeling this weekend.

"In that case," her voice was a tiny bit clipped, like she expected him to argue with her, "being in pursuit of perfection is only that much more important."

[turk_mailman]

Tseng wouldn't argue. Perhaps he simply didn't have it in him to argue with ghosts, tonight.

"A worthy cause," he said, after a moment's silence. "Should you happen to attain it, I would be most interested in speaking with you in regards to how it was accomplished."

[give-areason.livejournal.com]

Rosalind's eyes flicked to his then back to studying the room. "That would be highly unusual, sir."

[turk_mailman]

"So," Tseng noted, his tone carefully neutral, almost edging on blank entirely, "would perfection."

[give-areason.livejournal.com]

"Begging your pardon sir," she said, glancing at him. "But we'll disagree there."

Perfection had to be obtainable.

[turk_mailman]

Rosalind would be Rosalind.

Tseng felt a surge of guilt at that statement, a pang at a demeanor that was so thoroughly familiar. One of many, many lives that were on his head, now. And not so much as a flicker of that showed on his face. It never would, if he could help it. Particularly not in the presence of one of the individuals that he should have saved, back when.

"Well, then it would seem that you've set for yourself a very worthy goal."