The Seventh Heaven Bar, Edge, Wednesday Night
Admittedly, a Wednesday night was a pretty shitty night to go to any bar that didn't actually have something going on. And, in a place like Edge, it wasn't just Wednesday nights that were like that, even at the most popular stop for alcoholic swill in town. It wasn't as though people were going to get together and sing karaoke. Name that tune was
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Comments 183
Although, she had to admit, his handwriting was much better. Amazing what a little lesbian porn could do.
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"Yo," Reno carolled as he answered the phone. Barrett had just folded his hand, and Cid had decided that he was going to need a break in order to go take a piss. The Rookie's phone call had come at a good time. "How's my favorite supplier of smutty videos of naked chicks rubbin' their tits on one another tonight?"
Tifa was going to give Reno one of those looks from across the bar that was intended to remind him to not crow about lesbian pornography too loudly while Marlene was still helping her run drinks around to the patrons.
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Sure, he could order it, but maybe having hot girls actually mail it to him was an added thrill. Also, you know, she was paying for it, so.
"You know, reports go so much faster when you use actual words, and not just scrawls and dashes? It's unreal."
Not that she'd increased her weekly turnout any. Tseng would have gotten suspicious, and besides, she liked her free time.
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Really, money wasn't an issue so long as there were monster runs to be made and he was working under Tseng and kicking ass at poker at the bar on a semi-regular basis. But importing decent porn and booze from another universe was so much more awesome when it was on the Rookie's gil, wasn't it?
"You gotta work your way up to paragraph breaks, though."
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Romeo didn't even have a special reason to call Reno -- it had just been a few weeks and felt like time to check in.
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"Yo!"
Because, whether they liked it or not, anybody who had Reno's phone number was inevitably a hell of a lot more interesting than they were. And was probably better at poker, too.
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... he didn't know.
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"That depends," he replied, laughing and shoving the deck of cards toward the two men he was playing against, making vague motions that they should play the next couple of rounds without him. "Does it mean I get chocolate, man?"
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Of course she was going to resort to seeing if he was anywhere she could pry things out of him.
Come on, geez.
Oh lookit! His phone was ringing!
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Especially since he was drunk and he'd just managed to weasel the better part of a thousand gil out of Barrett and Cid combined. Enough beer nuts tossed at Vincent's head later, and he'd gotten the emo to join the game, too.
So far, Reno had actually lost ten gil to Vincent. Stupid freaking dead guy.
And so now seemed like as good a time as any to take a break and let Valentine kick the asses of the other two in his stead. He had a phone to answer!
"Yo!"
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A beat.
"Hiii."
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And new, right?
"Help me come up with ways to make a sixty-year-old dead emo former Turk motherfucker break his poker face?"
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He'd pretty much given up on poker by this point. Vincent had managed to get a hundred Gil from him, and even Reno knew when he was beat. So he was sitting around with a glass of Corel Ale in one hand, leering at the local girls when his phone rang. Leering could totally wait.
"Yo!"
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Ooh, that chick's bra strap was showing!
... Also, it was Tifa, who was now fixing him with a dirty look. Reno smiled the smile of a man with absolutely no shame, and even waved a merry little hello before returning to the conversation.
"I mean, all things considered. Just made a small fortune in Gil playin' a game of poker, yo."
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