Gotta love that wet dog smell--Traverse Town--Closed
Somehow, someway, through the good graces of air or something he'd managed the task of getting dry. Instead of that bath before doing Reno any good, it just messed up his hair, made his shirt look even more wrinkled than beforehand, and made him feel gross all around. It had resorted to the point where the jacket was stripped off and slung over his shoulder just so he could dry faster. Though as grumpy as he could be about the situation, getting any revenge on the matter didn't seem like a good idea. Red headed Turks did not take on Sephiroth without a significant reason-or.. Well..while he was conscious anyway.
Lounged around in the first district among several cardboard boxes near the item shop, Reno frisked the pockets in his jacket and pants to find any cash he might have stashed and forgot about; the grand total of his findings being one stamp, three buttons, a piece of paper with some numbers on it, a comb [the hell was that for?] and three munny. Nice.
The redhead had passed the time by eagerly beating his waterlogged shoes against the nearby wall in order to get them dry quicker. Actually it was only half that; in his mind Reno was imagining that the shoe was his head-repeatedly beating it against the wall because that what staying in this deathtrap felt like he was doing.
Traverse Town was like one big hole in the head-Painful as hell and probably some other witty comparison he couldn’t think of at the moment.
Obviously. Because all he met here was an array of son-of-a-bitches...and kids. Kids. Why were there kids who got this far; what kind of responsible parent didn't lock their kid in a closet when they mentioned getting on a gummi ship? "What kind of dumb shits are breeding these days, anyway." Reno wondered aloud in disgust. By now he had gotten bored with abusing his shoes, and set them aside. They looked dry enough. Sorta. Kinda. Not really. They looked soaked still.
Lounged around in the first district among several cardboard boxes near the item shop, Reno frisked the pockets in his jacket and pants to find any cash he might have stashed and forgot about; the grand total of his findings being one stamp, three buttons, a piece of paper with some numbers on it, a comb [the hell was that for?] and three munny. Nice.
The redhead had passed the time by eagerly beating his waterlogged shoes against the nearby wall in order to get them dry quicker. Actually it was only half that; in his mind Reno was imagining that the shoe was his head-repeatedly beating it against the wall because that what staying in this deathtrap felt like he was doing.
Traverse Town was like one big hole in the head-Painful as hell and probably some other witty comparison he couldn’t think of at the moment.
Obviously. Because all he met here was an array of son-of-a-bitches...and kids. Kids. Why were there kids who got this far; what kind of responsible parent didn't lock their kid in a closet when they mentioned getting on a gummi ship? "What kind of dumb shits are breeding these days, anyway." Reno wondered aloud in disgust. By now he had gotten bored with abusing his shoes, and set them aside. They looked dry enough. Sorta. Kinda. Not really. They looked soaked still.