Packing ( Read more... )

Okay. So Reno's report back to Tseng was now four or so days late. Reno was also blue. Now that he was too freaked out to show his face in public, it would be a great time to hole himself up in his room, bite the bullet, and type the stupid thing out.

Nearly the instant that he had hit send, he had received a reply.

( So he opened it! )

Reno was sitting cross-legged on his bed, a stack of photocopied papers spread out on the sheets in front of him. He was ignoring his laundry, which probably ought to get done before his roomie could notice the red streaks across the back of one of his white shirts. And he was ignoring his report to Tseng, which he usually ignored anyhow until the ( Read more... )

Having just sent a handwavey e-mail to Tseng that began with the words, "I swear I'm not freakin' drunk, but bear with me," Reno felt it was safe to finally poke through the e-mails that he'd been ignoring all weekend while typing up that stupid report.

He ran through the typical gamut of "junk, junk, spam, junk with spam filling, junk, Host Club ( Read more... )

Why yes, yes Reno does, in fact, check his e-mail.

Junk, junk, junk, junk with spam filling, ten messages from the boss informing him that his second report is half a week late, junk, invite to the Girls with Guns club, spam, spam, junk, jun-- Ooooh ( Read more... )

Reno did not want to wake up. Reno was wide awake, laying there in his bed, his face shoved as far into his pillow as he could manage without asphyxiating himself, but this did not yet mean that he had actually woken up.

Between stealing his own wallet, making large areas spontaneously combust in a psychopathic rage, and having casual ( Read more... )

Well, this was a room that Axel certainly wasn't familiar with. In fact, the whole place was really something new ( Read more... )

A week had passed since Reno had arrived on the island, ( and he still hadn't drafted up a report. )

Oh, look. A room ( Read more... )