Quality Man Time . Destiny Islands . Open & Complete

[recalcitrantly]

Since the blonde kid had nicely invited them both into his home, Reno started, well, making himself quite at home. In the place of Tidus, Reno removed himself from the seat and walked over to where the plated had been left out. The redhead snatched one of the plates that Tidus had left, and gestured to Quistis with it, "Guess it's just you and me

Comments

[recalcitrantly]

Oooh, a smack. It probably imprinted a nice hand-shaped red mark on the side of his face, which would go away soon enough. For some reason, he had the sudden urge to just start laughing on the spot. It wasn’t like being slapped was funny or anything like that, but it had been a while since a lady outright slapped him for no reason. Nothing more than a tiny little ding on the mass that was his ego. [He took that slap as a sign of victory that he’d successfully made a point worth getting angry over. It happened in a lifetime.] Instead, Reno passed the urge off, clearing his throat in the form of a cough.

Since Poppet seemed so vigorous about laying her personal history on him, Reno stood and heard out all of her case; all the reasons she gave for her ‘having’ to be the way she was. Truthfully putting any cigarette out on his own flesh would have been more pleasant. The redhead let out an annoyed groan, “All aboard the pity train because your life sucks so much.” Reno tugged the stereotypical non-existing train whistle in the air and made a small “whoo-whoo” noise just for the effect of sarcasm; Not that any more sarcasm was needed at the moment.

“Guess what? We all lost things in the past. We’re all pretty much pissed off at the world...s.. At the moment.” Talking was getting rather difficult so the cig was just removed for the moment. All this over him and his little bad habit. A bold look was tossed in the direction of the blonde, a motion of his hand following up and down, “There are a lot of people worse off than you-deformed, dead, screwed the hell up mentally or whatever. You go on, you live, and you hope that the next day your number doesn’t come up. I’m not gonna tell you to be happy or cheer the hell up-If you wanna be pissed at everything, then be pissed at everything. Just don’t you think about taking it out on me and have me roll the hell over.” One free slap was all she got as fair warning, for the drink, and that was a good deal.

But he was not getting into that live and love life bullshit. This discussion was all but over. Deathstick promptly placed, the invitation that she offered to the go outside wasn’t refused. “To show what a good sport I am I’ll take this,” He motioned to the small stick--the object of the semi-heated argument, “outside.” Thus it was.

If Poppet knew him at all, she’d know he wasn’t that big of a smoker [going through this entire pack didn’t sound too far fetched at the moment...] Buuut.. If Ms. Trepe knew him at all, she’d also know that he’d just succeeded in effectively manipulating his way out of cooking.

That was pretty much all he cared about.

Score one for the Turk.