Room 429, Friday Afternoon
Bored.
Bored, bored, bored.
Reno had actually cleaned his room up in a fit of boredom, which, admittedly, involved kicking everything under his bed except the bottles that still had booze in them. Those were filed away in his dresser, to be pulled out again later.
He'd done up a half-assed report about last weekend, and then slapped whatever he could find on Google about nuclear fission to the end of it just to go, 'see, look, still kinda trying.' He figured Tseng would understand. Next week, he'd actually put effort or something into his report. This week, he was just bent on not putting effort into things, ShinRa be damned.
Besides, a Google search on 'nuclear fission' had turned up about 650,000 results, and there was no freaking way that he was going to rifle through them all.
So, instead, he'd gone on to randomly wander the internet for clothing that wasn't going to bake his brains out when summer hit. And, wouldn't you know it, he'd met success. He placed a few orders, and then he settled back to waste the rest of the afternoon the only way he could think of.
Getting drunk and pirating mp3s. Reno of the Turks was a rebel, through and through.
[Just being weird, hi! Headed to work soon, but open for SP if you want. I really, really want that last shirt.]
Bored, bored, bored.
Reno had actually cleaned his room up in a fit of boredom, which, admittedly, involved kicking everything under his bed except the bottles that still had booze in them. Those were filed away in his dresser, to be pulled out again later.
He'd done up a half-assed report about last weekend, and then slapped whatever he could find on Google about nuclear fission to the end of it just to go, 'see, look, still kinda trying.' He figured Tseng would understand. Next week, he'd actually put effort or something into his report. This week, he was just bent on not putting effort into things, ShinRa be damned.
Besides, a Google search on 'nuclear fission' had turned up about 650,000 results, and there was no freaking way that he was going to rifle through them all.
So, instead, he'd gone on to randomly wander the internet for clothing that wasn't going to bake his brains out when summer hit. And, wouldn't you know it, he'd met success. He placed a few orders, and then he settled back to waste the rest of the afternoon the only way he could think of.
Getting drunk and pirating mp3s. Reno of the Turks was a rebel, through and through.
[Just being weird, hi! Headed to work soon, but open for SP if you want. I really, really want that last shirt.]