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

[ponytailedturk]

As a matter of fact, he had, thank you very much. And very well. But he didn't take his orders from Tseng of the Turks. His orders came from a far more impressive chain of command.

Or, at least, one that didn't look so eerily like himself, only a few years older and appearing as though he'd been through hell on more than one occasion, a fact that he was silently filing away for future reference.

"That will do," he settled on, though he suspected that he could guess the other Tseng's reasoning. Very well. He would take the second. He imagined that it had a better view of the island, in any case.

So there.

[turk_mailman]

Really now, Tseng. Tseng could tell when you were being petulant while still being terribly agreeable. It was best to simply just say what you were thinking aloud, because those bitter looks across the room were only serving to remind your older self exactly how impossible you used to be.

Which, Tseng noted, was an effect that rather seemed to dwarf that achieved by looking through old mission files, picking apart every little thing that could have been done better.

"I trust that the room will suit your needs," he said, simply. "It is, after all, very nearly exactly the same."

And only two doors down, as well. Convenient, that.

[ponytailedturk]

"Fitting, I suppose," Tseng noted, dryly. Really. The same man. In identical suites. "Next year, provided Rosalind is still a student here, I imagine I'll have to invest in one of the suites, in order to save further confusion."

Stick that in your cookie and eat it, old man.

[turk_mailman]

Well. Tseng was now going to find himself scraping together gil and pulling late-night monster hunts in order to scrounge up enough money to be able to afford one of the specialty suites. Perhaps the Champagne Suite. Or the Presidential.

Because he really, really wasn't in the mood for that particular sort of cookie.

"I imagine you might," he agreed. Idly. So very idly. "Should it prove to be within your budget."

Because he was one to talk.