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Literature Text
One
Shinra’s Turks
There was a soft beeping noise, and the quiet murmur of people all around. The bed he was in was warm, and the pain was gone, so the teenager simply lay there, his eyes closed, revelling in the feeling of being warm and clean, a sensation he had not experience in months. Hours passed as he just lay there, feeling secure and relaxed for the first time in nearly ten years. Then the redhead heard a sharp hacking cough, and opened his eyes.
He was in a hospital room, a double, and the smell of disinfectant was insidious: no amount of brilliantly scented flowers could mask it. He was wearing clothes that definitely weren’t his own (he didn’t even possess anything white) and was rigged up to a drip and about thirty machines. He wasn’t in any pain. But why would he be in pain anyway? He couldn’t remember. Confused, the boy watched an old man hack his lungs up in the other bed with disgust. He couldn’t recall the events leading up to his being in hospital no, wait. There had been something about meeting his cousin, hadn’t there? And… He shifted slightly, and felt cool metal press against his wrists. Looking down, he gasped as everything came flooding back.
His teeth gritted together sharply and he yanked his hands up sharply. Some fucker had cuffed his hands to the sides of the bed. Probably that freak in the blue suit. The coughing one glanced over at the noise, and grinned as his fit finally came to a close. “There’s no point,” he said in a raspy voice, raw and phlegmy. “They locked you up good, boy. You aren’t going anywhere.”
The boy shot him a killer glare. “Shut the hell up, old man.” He stopped tugging, and twisted his body sideways instead, examining the locking piece. He grinned. This wouldn’t be so difficult after all. He glared at the old man. “Pass me that,” he snarled, going for as menacing a tone as humanly possible as he gestured towards a small metal implement of the table next to . The old man glared right back. “What the hell do you need it for?” he growled. “The Turk’ll be back for you soon.”
The boy had absolutely no idea what a Turk was, but he did know that he didn’t want to find out. “Just pass it over.”
The old man sighed, and did as he was asked, not because he wanted to help the boy, but because he was starved for excitement and bored out of his mind. Dying of lung cancer was a bitch, but it was even worse when there was nothing to do but lie in a bed all day. He watched with interest as the scruffy redhead fiddled around with the cuff on his right hand, swearing as he slipped again and again. The old man smiled. It couldn’t be easy to undo a handcuff from that angle. The man doubted he could do it, right up until the point where there was a soft click! and the metal restraint snapped open. The boy went to work on his other hand as the cancer-stricken man watched with amazement his mouth open. “How did… Ah, never mind. They brought you in last night, covered in blood and going into shock, I heard. You’d lost over three litres of blood - everyone thought you were gonna die. That Turk said that you were to be cuffed if you came too, said he didn’t want you running off again…”
As the old man rambled on, the teenager finished opening the second cuff. He sat up, shooting a poisonous look at the old man as he slid the drip out of his arm, pushing the tape holding it down over the little wound, just in case it wanted to bleed like crazy as well. Then he stood up, swaying slightly, and swearing as his legs cramped. He rubbed the muscles of his legs grouchily, feeling hot anger boiling up inside of him, both at his cousin and at the bastard who’d shot him and put him through this hell.
“I’m Laurie, by the way,” the old man said, breaking off his chatter. The teenager glared at him some more.
“Do I look like I care?” He limped to the door, pulling it open. The bustle of a hospital at midday met his eyes. He glanced down at himself, he couldn’t escape wearing just a pair of white pajama pants and a very thin white shirt, no shoes, no jacket. It was autumn, it was fucking cold at night. Plus, he’d be pretty conspicuous.
He closed the door again and leant on it, trying to think. His eyes fell on the old man, Laurie, who was staring at him expectantly. He’d seen him come in last night, so maybe he knew…
“Where’d they put my clothes?” he demanded.
Laurie grinned. “I won’t tell you until you tell me what your name is.” His evil grin let the teenager know that he wasn’t going to budge.
The redhead stalked across the room, grabbing a handful of the old man’s shirt and glaring right into his face. “I don’t have the fucking time for this,” he hissed, blue green eyes sparking. “Where the hell is my stuff?”
“What’s your name?” Laurie wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.
The teenager sighed, frustrated beyond measure. He contemplated breaking the old man’s nose, but decided not to, realising that Laurie would probably call for help and get him deeply in the shit. “It’s Reno, okay? Now where the hell are my clothes?”
Laurie pointed at a chair near Reno’s bed. “They had to destroy your clothes - too much blood. But the Turk left you that to put on.” Reno glanced at the chair. On it were a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt. His boots sat on the floor, cleaned of the blood that had coated them. He stalked over. “Close yer eyes, you old perve,” he snarled. “I’m not getting dressed with you staring at me.”
Reno opened the door, slipping out into the corridor. He moved through the hospital, walking quickly and keeping an eye out for any morons in blue suits. His whole body ached while he’d been changing, he’d noticed that his entire body was completely and utterly covered in bruises, most of them from the thugs’ crowbars, but there was also a dark purplish-black bruise on his upper thigh, right where the bullet wound had been. He figured that somebody had been nice enough to Cure him.
The double doors leading away from the hospital were in sight. He limped a little faster, slipping past a security guard, who gave him a startled look. “HEY!! It’s that kid!” Reno took off.
He darted through the doors, running as fast as he could away from the hospital. His matted red hair fell into his eyes, blinding him. He shoved it away just in time to see a sleek dark blue car drive straight into him. Behind the wheel was the moron in the blue suit. Reno managed one strangled swearword as he jumped straight in the air in pure reflex. He landed on the bonnet, his boots making dents in the metal. He half grinned, and then the freak gunned the engine. Reno went flying over the roof of the car, rolling down the back and landing on the street, his head cracking into the tarmac. He sat up, feeling the by-now familiar pain. It seemed like he’d been in constant pain for the past couple of days. After that mess with the bullet in his leg, this was nothing.
He lay there for barely a second before sitting up. The moron, the Turk, was walking towards him, pulling out his gun again. Reno didn’t think, he was just on his feet and kicking the gun out of the man’s hand, before he had time to react. And then Reno punched him in the face with a strength born of complete desperation. The dark haired man’s head snapped back, and he let out an involuntary grunt. Reno followed the move up immediately, somehow knowing that as soon as the Turk regained his equilibrium, he would be in trouble. So he kept up a constant barrage of punches and kicks, keeping the man off balance. He kicked the Turk hard in the jaw, feeling his leg twinge just a little bit. He winced, and paused just for an instant.
That little hesitation was his undoing. The Turk bastard regained his balance far faster than he should have been able to, and punched Reno in the jaw. Reno’s head snapped back. The Turk was a lot bigger than him, and much better fed. He also had more muscle to get behind the hit.
But nothing could stop the furious teen for long, he tackled the other man to the ground, kicking him savagely. “You fucker…” he panted, punching the man in the face. “…You fucking shot me!”
Next thing he knew, agony flared over his entire body, worse than anything he had ever experienced, including his little bullet hunt. He blacked out for a moment; when he came to, he could hear the bastard’s voice above him. “Your vocabulary could use a little broadening. An encyclopaedic knowledge of every four letter word does not a genius make.”
Reno gave him a full exhibition of how well he could use the words that were in his vocabulary, giving a categorical list of exactly what he thought of the Turk, and a suspected list of who his ancestors had been. He ended his little rant with, “…and what the fuck was that thing?” His body was still twitching slightly as spasms of pain racked his thin frame. Electricity danced between his fingers, light blue and so painful.
As his vision cleared, Reno glared up at the man, who was holding what looked a bit like a metal baton, or a nightstick. The man’s face was dispassionate as he looked down at the suffering teenager, bruises were beginning to show up on his cheekbones. His lip was spilt, it leaked small amounts of blood as he talked. “That was an EMR, Reno, an Electro-Magnetic Rod. If you’re a good boy, you might be allowed to use one someday.” He reached down and grabbed the boy’s arm, dragging him to his feet and towards the car none too gently.
“Hey, wait a minute!” Reno snarled, still feeling very shaky. He struggled weakly, trying to twist free of the man’s hard grip. “Let go of me, you bastard! You got no fucking right!”
“Oh, I don’t?” the man asked, his voice perfectly calm. “You made a serious effort to destroy my face.”
“You shot me in the leg,” Reno retorted. “Let me go!” The man threw him into the back seat of the Mercedes, slamming the door. He climbed into the driver’s seat and cast Reno an amused look through the rear view mirror. The front seat and back seat were separated by a steel mesh barrier.
“Or what? You’ll infect me with the lice that no doubt populate that mess you call hair? When was the last time you brushed that nest?”
Reno’s hand lifted self consciously to his matted red hair. Then he jerked it away, scowling furiously. “Not everybody has the time to spend six hours in front of the fucking mirror, bitch,” he hissed, wanting to get some kind of reaction out of the impassive man as they drove away from the hospital. “What are you, gay?”
The man laughed softly. “Really, Reno, you amaze me. Here you are, practically abducted by a man who could quite easily kill or torture you, and you find time to be self conscious about your hair. Astonishing.”
Reno snarled and started searching around the edges of the mesh, to see if there was any way to detach the screen so he could strangle the infuriating bastard. Not finding anything, he tried to smash the window, and earned himself a very sore hand, then sat glaring out the window, swearing softly.
“Have you given up already, Reno?” The Turk’s voice was quietly amused. “That was quick.”
“How the fuck do you know my name?” Reno asked sulkily. He really hated this man. “I sure as hell didn’t tell you.”
“Just a few discreet inquiries. I barely had to dig - you’ve made quite a name for yourself down in the Slums… You aren’t somebody anyone wants to run into down a dark alley apparently. Running a successful weapons smuggling business, as well as working as a very good thief for anyone with a large enough check book, utterly ruthless in a fight… And only seventeen years old, too. Simply amazing, Reno.”
Reno closed his eyes, trying to ignore the man. He didn’t need praise from this asshole.
“Of course, you must have wanted to succeed in the world, just to make sure you didn’t ever have to go back to a foster home… You were, what… eight years old when you got out?”
Reno devoted the rest of the car trip to trying to figure out how to get the barrier down so he could tear the Turk’s throat out. How the fuck did he know this stuff?
The car pulled up in front of the Shinra Corporations building and Reno was dragged out. He managed to punch the man in the face once before his hands were cuffed roughly behind his back. He didn’t give up though, dropping to the ground in a complicated roll that ended with his hands cuffed in front of his back rather than behind. With a couple of quick flicks of his hands, the cuffs were open and he was coming out of his roll and running down the street. He’d kill the Turk later, for now, he wanted to get away. He had no intention of going in that building.
But the Turk just chased him and clipped him with the EMR. Once he’d finished convulsing on the ground, he was just dragged back to the Shinra building, this time with the EMR hovering over his shoulder. Reno scowled. “How do I get one of those, asshole?” he asked. Just think of the damage he could do…
“You do as you are told, and stop trying to run off.”
“I’m not leaving until I kill you, wanker.” Reno grit his teeth as another wave of painful aftershocks ran through him. He noted that most of the EMR wasn’t electric and started formulating a plan. As they neared the elevators he darted backwards, slamming his shoulder into the EMR, lifting it away from him and flicking it back towards the surprised Turk, who let out a small gasp as pain ran through him. Reno undid his handcuffs again and grabbed the rod, zapping the Turk with it again and again. “Pay back for my fucking leg, you asshole,” he hissed angrily. He looked up as he heard the tromp of booted feet running towards him and started to grin. About ten Shinra soldiers… and he had a new toy. Oh, this was going to be fun! He grabbed his matted mess of hair and twisted it out of his eyes, fixing his visibility problem. Then he threw himself forward, kicking the first soldier in the solar plexus and driving the wind out of him. He twisted with the kick, using a move he’d learnt from a really weird break dancer down in the Slums, slamming his booted foot into another soldiers face as he flipped into the air. He landed on his feet in the midst of them and started to lay about him with his new EMR.
A wild grin began to grace his angular features as dark light seeped into his eyes. It was a terrifying sight, one that made a couple of the soldiers recoil, which was their undoing. Reno fought savagely, moving with a startling speed. He kicked one man in the nuts, then jabbed another in the face with his rod. Within minutes, there was only the sound of Reno’s panting, the whimpers of the receptionist and the groans of the men who were still alive/conscious enough to make any kind of noise.
After a moment, there was another sound: the cocking of a gun, right next to Reno’s ear. He froze as the barrel of a gun nudged aside the matted hair next to Reno’s ear. His head turned slowly and the gun moved enough to allow him to look around.
Behind him stood a teenage male - because you just could not call someone this poised a boy - about the same age as he, with perfectly groomed light blonde hair and cold, ice blue eyes, wearing a three piece white suit and a black turtleneck. His face was coldly attractive and he was about two inches shorter than Reno. Reno glared at him.
“Drop the EMR,” he said in a calm voice. “Or what small amount of brains you possess will be scattered all over the far wall.”
Reno very deliberately dropped the EMR and turned fully around to glower at the other adolescent as the Turk slowly dragged himself to his feet. “I…” he muttered, flinching with every move he made. “I’m afraid… he got away from me, sir…” He looked at the infuriated redhead. “Very well done, Reno. I must admit, I’m impressed.”
Reno stared at him. “Is it just me, or are you fucking insane?” The gun was jabbed against his head making him wince and flinch. “Watch your mouth,” the blonde said coolly. “Tseng, who is he?” He jabbed Reno with the gun again. This pissed Reno off. A lot.
“His name is Reno, sir. I want to train him as a Turk…”
“Why would you…”
The rest of his sentence was forgotten as Reno’s hand moved up in a blur, grabbing the barrel of the gun and shoving it away from himself. He kicked the Turk, Tseng, in the stomach and grabbed the blonde’s arm, throwing him against the wall. He flicked the EMR into the air with his spare foot, twisting in a neat mid air flip/spin and jamming it against the blonde’s throat. He scowled as yet another gun came into contact with his stomach. Cold blue eyes stared into his own as about fifty Shinra grunts ran down the corridor and surrounded them. The bastard had not a hair out of place.
Tseng sighed and confiscated the EMR, handcuffing the redhead for what he hoped would be the final time. “That’s why, sir…
Reno sat tied and cuffed to his chair, glaring furiously at the fat man in front of him. “Get fucked, Shinra…” he hissed. “I’d rather die than work for you, you bastard.”
He was slapped roughly across the back of the head by the impassive Tseng, who was standing behind his chair, EMR hovering. “Watch your mouth,” the blonde boy said for the second time. He was standing nearby, faint amusement in his cold blue eyes. Reno glared at him and opened his mouth to say something savage, but was hit again by Tseng. “Quiet.”
The fat man who was, surprisingly enough, President Shinra of Shinra Corporations, the most powerful man in the world, took a deep wheezing breathe and gave Tseng an irritated look. “Why do you think this ingrate could be a productive member of Shinra? I see no potential.” Reno wondered for the hundredth time how this tub of lard could share the same genes as the beautiful slender ice sculpture who’d held a gun to his head. Rufus Shinra little resembled his father. He was cool and quiet where the older man was brash and loud. He could draw every eye, hold attention with complete ease, while his father had to shout to make himself heard. There was a… dangerousness that hovered around him, something that his father would never be able to possess. Reno found himself thinking that he wouldn’t mind working for him, just not for the fat bastard in front of him. He stopped his thoughts abruptly, disgusted with himself. He would never work for Shinra, not even for too pretty Vice Presidents… Wait, what the hell? He must have taken a few too many hits to the head over the past couple of days. He made his mind completely blank, and simply glared, wishing he’d never gone to meet his cousin.
He glared off into space, ignoring the President as he argued with Tseng over his head. His hands moved restlessly, gradually untying himself without even himself noticing. It was habit. When he was restrained, he would break free. He heard quiet footsteps, and glanced up as Rufus was suddenly standing beside him. He spoke quietly to his father and Tseng. Reno couldn’t understand the words, for some reason his ears were ringing as his skin prickled savagely. Rufus’ proximity seemed to be doing strange things to him. He grit his teeth together, and undid the last of the knots and the handcuffs yet again.. He propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. His brain hurt.
A second later, the world spun and dropped away as the redhead passed out for the second time in two days.
Shinra’s Turks
There was a soft beeping noise, and the quiet murmur of people all around. The bed he was in was warm, and the pain was gone, so the teenager simply lay there, his eyes closed, revelling in the feeling of being warm and clean, a sensation he had not experience in months. Hours passed as he just lay there, feeling secure and relaxed for the first time in nearly ten years. Then the redhead heard a sharp hacking cough, and opened his eyes.
He was in a hospital room, a double, and the smell of disinfectant was insidious: no amount of brilliantly scented flowers could mask it. He was wearing clothes that definitely weren’t his own (he didn’t even possess anything white) and was rigged up to a drip and about thirty machines. He wasn’t in any pain. But why would he be in pain anyway? He couldn’t remember. Confused, the boy watched an old man hack his lungs up in the other bed with disgust. He couldn’t recall the events leading up to his being in hospital no, wait. There had been something about meeting his cousin, hadn’t there? And… He shifted slightly, and felt cool metal press against his wrists. Looking down, he gasped as everything came flooding back.
His teeth gritted together sharply and he yanked his hands up sharply. Some fucker had cuffed his hands to the sides of the bed. Probably that freak in the blue suit. The coughing one glanced over at the noise, and grinned as his fit finally came to a close. “There’s no point,” he said in a raspy voice, raw and phlegmy. “They locked you up good, boy. You aren’t going anywhere.”
The boy shot him a killer glare. “Shut the hell up, old man.” He stopped tugging, and twisted his body sideways instead, examining the locking piece. He grinned. This wouldn’t be so difficult after all. He glared at the old man. “Pass me that,” he snarled, going for as menacing a tone as humanly possible as he gestured towards a small metal implement of the table next to . The old man glared right back. “What the hell do you need it for?” he growled. “The Turk’ll be back for you soon.”
The boy had absolutely no idea what a Turk was, but he did know that he didn’t want to find out. “Just pass it over.”
The old man sighed, and did as he was asked, not because he wanted to help the boy, but because he was starved for excitement and bored out of his mind. Dying of lung cancer was a bitch, but it was even worse when there was nothing to do but lie in a bed all day. He watched with interest as the scruffy redhead fiddled around with the cuff on his right hand, swearing as he slipped again and again. The old man smiled. It couldn’t be easy to undo a handcuff from that angle. The man doubted he could do it, right up until the point where there was a soft click! and the metal restraint snapped open. The boy went to work on his other hand as the cancer-stricken man watched with amazement his mouth open. “How did… Ah, never mind. They brought you in last night, covered in blood and going into shock, I heard. You’d lost over three litres of blood - everyone thought you were gonna die. That Turk said that you were to be cuffed if you came too, said he didn’t want you running off again…”
As the old man rambled on, the teenager finished opening the second cuff. He sat up, shooting a poisonous look at the old man as he slid the drip out of his arm, pushing the tape holding it down over the little wound, just in case it wanted to bleed like crazy as well. Then he stood up, swaying slightly, and swearing as his legs cramped. He rubbed the muscles of his legs grouchily, feeling hot anger boiling up inside of him, both at his cousin and at the bastard who’d shot him and put him through this hell.
“I’m Laurie, by the way,” the old man said, breaking off his chatter. The teenager glared at him some more.
“Do I look like I care?” He limped to the door, pulling it open. The bustle of a hospital at midday met his eyes. He glanced down at himself, he couldn’t escape wearing just a pair of white pajama pants and a very thin white shirt, no shoes, no jacket. It was autumn, it was fucking cold at night. Plus, he’d be pretty conspicuous.
He closed the door again and leant on it, trying to think. His eyes fell on the old man, Laurie, who was staring at him expectantly. He’d seen him come in last night, so maybe he knew…
“Where’d they put my clothes?” he demanded.
Laurie grinned. “I won’t tell you until you tell me what your name is.” His evil grin let the teenager know that he wasn’t going to budge.
The redhead stalked across the room, grabbing a handful of the old man’s shirt and glaring right into his face. “I don’t have the fucking time for this,” he hissed, blue green eyes sparking. “Where the hell is my stuff?”
“What’s your name?” Laurie wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.
The teenager sighed, frustrated beyond measure. He contemplated breaking the old man’s nose, but decided not to, realising that Laurie would probably call for help and get him deeply in the shit. “It’s Reno, okay? Now where the hell are my clothes?”
Laurie pointed at a chair near Reno’s bed. “They had to destroy your clothes - too much blood. But the Turk left you that to put on.” Reno glanced at the chair. On it were a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt. His boots sat on the floor, cleaned of the blood that had coated them. He stalked over. “Close yer eyes, you old perve,” he snarled. “I’m not getting dressed with you staring at me.”
Reno opened the door, slipping out into the corridor. He moved through the hospital, walking quickly and keeping an eye out for any morons in blue suits. His whole body ached while he’d been changing, he’d noticed that his entire body was completely and utterly covered in bruises, most of them from the thugs’ crowbars, but there was also a dark purplish-black bruise on his upper thigh, right where the bullet wound had been. He figured that somebody had been nice enough to Cure him.
The double doors leading away from the hospital were in sight. He limped a little faster, slipping past a security guard, who gave him a startled look. “HEY!! It’s that kid!” Reno took off.
He darted through the doors, running as fast as he could away from the hospital. His matted red hair fell into his eyes, blinding him. He shoved it away just in time to see a sleek dark blue car drive straight into him. Behind the wheel was the moron in the blue suit. Reno managed one strangled swearword as he jumped straight in the air in pure reflex. He landed on the bonnet, his boots making dents in the metal. He half grinned, and then the freak gunned the engine. Reno went flying over the roof of the car, rolling down the back and landing on the street, his head cracking into the tarmac. He sat up, feeling the by-now familiar pain. It seemed like he’d been in constant pain for the past couple of days. After that mess with the bullet in his leg, this was nothing.
He lay there for barely a second before sitting up. The moron, the Turk, was walking towards him, pulling out his gun again. Reno didn’t think, he was just on his feet and kicking the gun out of the man’s hand, before he had time to react. And then Reno punched him in the face with a strength born of complete desperation. The dark haired man’s head snapped back, and he let out an involuntary grunt. Reno followed the move up immediately, somehow knowing that as soon as the Turk regained his equilibrium, he would be in trouble. So he kept up a constant barrage of punches and kicks, keeping the man off balance. He kicked the Turk hard in the jaw, feeling his leg twinge just a little bit. He winced, and paused just for an instant.
That little hesitation was his undoing. The Turk bastard regained his balance far faster than he should have been able to, and punched Reno in the jaw. Reno’s head snapped back. The Turk was a lot bigger than him, and much better fed. He also had more muscle to get behind the hit.
But nothing could stop the furious teen for long, he tackled the other man to the ground, kicking him savagely. “You fucker…” he panted, punching the man in the face. “…You fucking shot me!”
Next thing he knew, agony flared over his entire body, worse than anything he had ever experienced, including his little bullet hunt. He blacked out for a moment; when he came to, he could hear the bastard’s voice above him. “Your vocabulary could use a little broadening. An encyclopaedic knowledge of every four letter word does not a genius make.”
Reno gave him a full exhibition of how well he could use the words that were in his vocabulary, giving a categorical list of exactly what he thought of the Turk, and a suspected list of who his ancestors had been. He ended his little rant with, “…and what the fuck was that thing?” His body was still twitching slightly as spasms of pain racked his thin frame. Electricity danced between his fingers, light blue and so painful.
As his vision cleared, Reno glared up at the man, who was holding what looked a bit like a metal baton, or a nightstick. The man’s face was dispassionate as he looked down at the suffering teenager, bruises were beginning to show up on his cheekbones. His lip was spilt, it leaked small amounts of blood as he talked. “That was an EMR, Reno, an Electro-Magnetic Rod. If you’re a good boy, you might be allowed to use one someday.” He reached down and grabbed the boy’s arm, dragging him to his feet and towards the car none too gently.
“Hey, wait a minute!” Reno snarled, still feeling very shaky. He struggled weakly, trying to twist free of the man’s hard grip. “Let go of me, you bastard! You got no fucking right!”
“Oh, I don’t?” the man asked, his voice perfectly calm. “You made a serious effort to destroy my face.”
“You shot me in the leg,” Reno retorted. “Let me go!” The man threw him into the back seat of the Mercedes, slamming the door. He climbed into the driver’s seat and cast Reno an amused look through the rear view mirror. The front seat and back seat were separated by a steel mesh barrier.
“Or what? You’ll infect me with the lice that no doubt populate that mess you call hair? When was the last time you brushed that nest?”
Reno’s hand lifted self consciously to his matted red hair. Then he jerked it away, scowling furiously. “Not everybody has the time to spend six hours in front of the fucking mirror, bitch,” he hissed, wanting to get some kind of reaction out of the impassive man as they drove away from the hospital. “What are you, gay?”
The man laughed softly. “Really, Reno, you amaze me. Here you are, practically abducted by a man who could quite easily kill or torture you, and you find time to be self conscious about your hair. Astonishing.”
Reno snarled and started searching around the edges of the mesh, to see if there was any way to detach the screen so he could strangle the infuriating bastard. Not finding anything, he tried to smash the window, and earned himself a very sore hand, then sat glaring out the window, swearing softly.
“Have you given up already, Reno?” The Turk’s voice was quietly amused. “That was quick.”
“How the fuck do you know my name?” Reno asked sulkily. He really hated this man. “I sure as hell didn’t tell you.”
“Just a few discreet inquiries. I barely had to dig - you’ve made quite a name for yourself down in the Slums… You aren’t somebody anyone wants to run into down a dark alley apparently. Running a successful weapons smuggling business, as well as working as a very good thief for anyone with a large enough check book, utterly ruthless in a fight… And only seventeen years old, too. Simply amazing, Reno.”
Reno closed his eyes, trying to ignore the man. He didn’t need praise from this asshole.
“Of course, you must have wanted to succeed in the world, just to make sure you didn’t ever have to go back to a foster home… You were, what… eight years old when you got out?”
Reno devoted the rest of the car trip to trying to figure out how to get the barrier down so he could tear the Turk’s throat out. How the fuck did he know this stuff?
The car pulled up in front of the Shinra Corporations building and Reno was dragged out. He managed to punch the man in the face once before his hands were cuffed roughly behind his back. He didn’t give up though, dropping to the ground in a complicated roll that ended with his hands cuffed in front of his back rather than behind. With a couple of quick flicks of his hands, the cuffs were open and he was coming out of his roll and running down the street. He’d kill the Turk later, for now, he wanted to get away. He had no intention of going in that building.
But the Turk just chased him and clipped him with the EMR. Once he’d finished convulsing on the ground, he was just dragged back to the Shinra building, this time with the EMR hovering over his shoulder. Reno scowled. “How do I get one of those, asshole?” he asked. Just think of the damage he could do…
“You do as you are told, and stop trying to run off.”
“I’m not leaving until I kill you, wanker.” Reno grit his teeth as another wave of painful aftershocks ran through him. He noted that most of the EMR wasn’t electric and started formulating a plan. As they neared the elevators he darted backwards, slamming his shoulder into the EMR, lifting it away from him and flicking it back towards the surprised Turk, who let out a small gasp as pain ran through him. Reno undid his handcuffs again and grabbed the rod, zapping the Turk with it again and again. “Pay back for my fucking leg, you asshole,” he hissed angrily. He looked up as he heard the tromp of booted feet running towards him and started to grin. About ten Shinra soldiers… and he had a new toy. Oh, this was going to be fun! He grabbed his matted mess of hair and twisted it out of his eyes, fixing his visibility problem. Then he threw himself forward, kicking the first soldier in the solar plexus and driving the wind out of him. He twisted with the kick, using a move he’d learnt from a really weird break dancer down in the Slums, slamming his booted foot into another soldiers face as he flipped into the air. He landed on his feet in the midst of them and started to lay about him with his new EMR.
A wild grin began to grace his angular features as dark light seeped into his eyes. It was a terrifying sight, one that made a couple of the soldiers recoil, which was their undoing. Reno fought savagely, moving with a startling speed. He kicked one man in the nuts, then jabbed another in the face with his rod. Within minutes, there was only the sound of Reno’s panting, the whimpers of the receptionist and the groans of the men who were still alive/conscious enough to make any kind of noise.
After a moment, there was another sound: the cocking of a gun, right next to Reno’s ear. He froze as the barrel of a gun nudged aside the matted hair next to Reno’s ear. His head turned slowly and the gun moved enough to allow him to look around.
Behind him stood a teenage male - because you just could not call someone this poised a boy - about the same age as he, with perfectly groomed light blonde hair and cold, ice blue eyes, wearing a three piece white suit and a black turtleneck. His face was coldly attractive and he was about two inches shorter than Reno. Reno glared at him.
“Drop the EMR,” he said in a calm voice. “Or what small amount of brains you possess will be scattered all over the far wall.”
Reno very deliberately dropped the EMR and turned fully around to glower at the other adolescent as the Turk slowly dragged himself to his feet. “I…” he muttered, flinching with every move he made. “I’m afraid… he got away from me, sir…” He looked at the infuriated redhead. “Very well done, Reno. I must admit, I’m impressed.”
Reno stared at him. “Is it just me, or are you fucking insane?” The gun was jabbed against his head making him wince and flinch. “Watch your mouth,” the blonde said coolly. “Tseng, who is he?” He jabbed Reno with the gun again. This pissed Reno off. A lot.
“His name is Reno, sir. I want to train him as a Turk…”
“Why would you…”
The rest of his sentence was forgotten as Reno’s hand moved up in a blur, grabbing the barrel of the gun and shoving it away from himself. He kicked the Turk, Tseng, in the stomach and grabbed the blonde’s arm, throwing him against the wall. He flicked the EMR into the air with his spare foot, twisting in a neat mid air flip/spin and jamming it against the blonde’s throat. He scowled as yet another gun came into contact with his stomach. Cold blue eyes stared into his own as about fifty Shinra grunts ran down the corridor and surrounded them. The bastard had not a hair out of place.
Tseng sighed and confiscated the EMR, handcuffing the redhead for what he hoped would be the final time. “That’s why, sir…
Reno sat tied and cuffed to his chair, glaring furiously at the fat man in front of him. “Get fucked, Shinra…” he hissed. “I’d rather die than work for you, you bastard.”
He was slapped roughly across the back of the head by the impassive Tseng, who was standing behind his chair, EMR hovering. “Watch your mouth,” the blonde boy said for the second time. He was standing nearby, faint amusement in his cold blue eyes. Reno glared at him and opened his mouth to say something savage, but was hit again by Tseng. “Quiet.”
The fat man who was, surprisingly enough, President Shinra of Shinra Corporations, the most powerful man in the world, took a deep wheezing breathe and gave Tseng an irritated look. “Why do you think this ingrate could be a productive member of Shinra? I see no potential.” Reno wondered for the hundredth time how this tub of lard could share the same genes as the beautiful slender ice sculpture who’d held a gun to his head. Rufus Shinra little resembled his father. He was cool and quiet where the older man was brash and loud. He could draw every eye, hold attention with complete ease, while his father had to shout to make himself heard. There was a… dangerousness that hovered around him, something that his father would never be able to possess. Reno found himself thinking that he wouldn’t mind working for him, just not for the fat bastard in front of him. He stopped his thoughts abruptly, disgusted with himself. He would never work for Shinra, not even for too pretty Vice Presidents… Wait, what the hell? He must have taken a few too many hits to the head over the past couple of days. He made his mind completely blank, and simply glared, wishing he’d never gone to meet his cousin.
He glared off into space, ignoring the President as he argued with Tseng over his head. His hands moved restlessly, gradually untying himself without even himself noticing. It was habit. When he was restrained, he would break free. He heard quiet footsteps, and glanced up as Rufus was suddenly standing beside him. He spoke quietly to his father and Tseng. Reno couldn’t understand the words, for some reason his ears were ringing as his skin prickled savagely. Rufus’ proximity seemed to be doing strange things to him. He grit his teeth together, and undid the last of the knots and the handcuffs yet again.. He propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. His brain hurt.
A second later, the world spun and dropped away as the redhead passed out for the second time in two days.
Literature
..::GaaHina.2.::..
GaaHina Chapter 2
"So...what are you doing in Konoha, Gaara?"asked Neji, his voice had a hint of concern, Hinata noticed this, and turned to face her older cousin.
Gaara looked at Hinata, then to Neji, then quietly, he began to speak.
"...my brother and sister wanted to stay here for a while, and i had to go with them...Kankuro is sharing a house with a friend of his...Temari is staying with Shikamaru," he paused for a few moments, then continued, ",and i am staying in a hotel not far from here."
Neji looked at Hinata,then nodded, he could tell that she wanted to ask him to stay at theirs for the time being. Hinata saw the nod of approval
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A Sick Hidan
"This fucking sucks."
Kakuzu and Hidan, currently, had to find a cave to stay in to get out of the, horrible, storm outside. Normally, rain wouldn't bother them. However, that wasn't the case. It was raining hard, with hail, and very hard wind. There was no way they would get through it.
"I can see that Hidan."
"Yeah I know! But it sucks for something else too! Dumbass."
"What could be worse than this."
"You look mad and I-.Nothing"
"Whatever."
Hidan walked to the back or the cave so he could have a little chance of warming up. Kakuzu could swear, if he had told Hidan he loved him and got that over with, he would've left Hidan in the s
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Masked Kisses || Kakashi Hatake
[Kakashi x reader]
“Kakashi, can I ask you a question?”
Said man averted his eyes—or the one that was visible—from the book to look at you, who were staring at
him with a soft smile. As your gaze locked on his, a blush crept up his neck; he mentally thanked his mask for covering it up.
“What is it, [Name]?”
You placed a hand under your chin while watching him silently, causing the man to grow wary and clear his throat—if only to attempt to make you realise you were making things awkward. However, as expected, no reaction was elicited from you; perhaps, you were too oblivious. But
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First chapter of the first part of the Reno Chronicles. Once again no italics or anything cos i can't be bothered going through and putting in html. WARNING: lots of swearing. Thea, you might not want to read this.
Disclaimer: I don't own Reno, Rufus, or anybody else.
Disclaimer: I don't own Reno, Rufus, or anybody else.
© 2007 - 2024 ZeldaraRain
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This is so awesomely fantastic!!!