Current location:	snowed in
Current mood:	chipper
Current music:	Muse - Invincible
Entry tags:	*final fantasy vii, author: faicinn_rocais

[FFVII: Reno] The Product of an Overactive Imagination (1/2)
Title: The Product of an Overactive Imagination (1/2)
Author: faicinn_rocais
Rating: T
Warnings: Reno
Word count: 1,124
Prompt: 10- Final Fantasy VII, Reno: antics - It didn't make sense not to live for fun/your brain gets smart, but your head gets dumb
Summary: Reno being Reno.
A/N: I think I'm having too much fun with this. Since it's just after midnight of 2/11--and this being due on 2/10--I'd figure I'd post this and post the rest of it when I post my next prompt on the 12. Enjoy~! (PS: How're y'all that're living in the US likin' the snow? Where I am we got 2 ft on Friday night that barely got cleaned up for the 6 or so inches we got today. I'm in Pittsburgh right now and they have no idea what to do with the snow. Me, being from upstate NY--fingerlakes region--am having a blast!)


Tseng was not amused. There was a reason why Reno was allowed to drink and smoke on the clock; it prevented him from thinking. Not that he didn’t think enough, Tseng mused as he carefully wandered into his office. He just thought enough when he was under the influence of something. Tseng got to his desk and turned around, making a survey of his office.

He had no idea when the redhead had come into the office, or his for that matter, but it must have been early if his scribbling and doodles pasted all over the walls were anything to go by. They got messier and messier as time progressed; the sloppy handwriting becoming nigh on illegible as the plans progressed. It was probably intentional, since, upon further study of the doodles that unfortunately looked like plans, they were written in slum drawl short hand—a dialect of Common he was not one hundred percent familiar with.

Rubbing his temples, he prayed to Leviathan, Ramuh, and any other god that was listening that Reno lived to see tomorrow.

run, run, get around, I get around; yeah get around, ooh~ I get around

Green eyes popped open, wide awake, with no reason as to why they should be open. He remembered bits and pieces of the mission he had gone on the day before, remembered getting thrown into a wall head first, colours, words, he whacked something good with his EMR, then Rude was over him with a materia and a hypo.

He’d been tranque’d.

Scowling, Reno sat up in bed, running his hand through his hair. He felt like he’d been sleeping for ages. Looking at his watch, the device read a measly 23:00. If his spotty memory was anything to go by, he’d been out since daylight; he was going to assume seventeen or eighteen hundred hours. Waaaaaaaaay too much sleep for the likes of him. Even growing up, Reno had never slept that long.

Stretching and hauling himself out of bed, the redhead threw some clothes on—a suit that didn’t smell and wasn’t as wrinkled as the rest—and headed to work; ideas coming and going through his mind like the wind in trees he’d finally seen when he became a Turk.

Reno froze, foot mid step still in the air, eyes wide, as an idea came to him. It was crazy. It was ingenious. His shocked face melted into a devious smile. It was brilliant. It didn't make sense not to live for fun, after all, he thought. Your brain gets smart, but your head gets dumb.

Instead of entering through the front doors, the Turk entered through the air ducts and scurried his way to his office where he kept a rather spiffed up laptop. Reno then proceeded to hack into the security system and loop the feed with yesterdays shift in several hallways and offices for the next few hours.

Heading over to Tseng’s office, since who would bother to look for him there, the ex-Slum Rat brought with him a pad of paper, crayon’s he’d nicked from that girl at the Heaven with pigtails, and a mind working too efficiently for its own good.
Hours later, the Turk ran out of the office, one plan laid out and executed with three more to go.

run, run, get around, I get around; yeah get around, ooh~ I get around

Tseng didn’t realize that the doodles only hid the real damage. Underneath the pencil sketches—some of which were quite good—were crayon doodles…that weren’t on paper. The hideous drawings were done on the sheetrock the walls were comprised of. Tseng thought he recognized Scarlet, only because she was doodled in a red crayon, and a demonic rendition of Sephiroth was doing quite…hideous…things to her. There was a detailed anatomical drawing of the male and female body with notes on certain parts and pressure points…and was that really possible? Tseng reread that passage, examined the two drawings, then decided that it might be possible.

Deciding that the drawings could wait till lunch, despite the horrible caricatures of his former and current coworkers, Tseng sat down on his chair and went to open the drawers of his desk.

They didn’t budge. Any of them.

That was when the chemical scent of glue reached his nose and his eyes caught the sticky note on his pristine desk.

Take the day off, Boss. Yer gonna need it. ~Red.

With a wonderful headache already in place, Tseng put his name down in his computer as off on an important mission, and headed home. With Reno on the loose, he’d deal with it tomorrow.

run, run, get around, I get around; yeah get around, ooh~ I get around

Rufus, Reno decided, needed to lighten up. He knew someone in the slums that had crossed Guard Hounds with Bandersnatches for illegal fighting purposes, and he currently had a litter of puppies needing to be trained or sold. Knowing that the Prez had a soft spot for adorable furry creatures, Reno sent out a text before heading out of the building and down to Sector Four. Reno wandered around from shadow to shadow until he caught the faint sound of barking and cheering. Skulking towards the noise, he found the dog fight in full swing.

Casually, to the guy next to him, he said, “Betcha ‘underd gil blackie there wins.”

“Yer on.”

Ten minutes later, the pie-bald dog was down and the black dog was being hauled out of the ring as the winner. Reno turned to the guy, making a grabbing motion. Grumbling, the man forked over the hundred gil and ambled off. Whistling a tune, the redhead went out back to where the breeders were with their dogs. Silence met his appearance. “Enny’n here known’ where I cn find one Geoff Forks?”

“’Round the corn’r ta yer right,” someone spoke. “Nun’ a us want truble.”

“Not lookin’ ta start nun here,” Reno drawled as he made his way through the crowd. The dogs usually vicious creatures, happily barked and wagged their tails at his passing. Reno found Geoff right where the one dude said he’d be, and the man had a bitch with puppies with him as well. “Jus’ th’ man I wanted ta see!”

Geoff looked up at the proclamation to see the redheaded Turk. “Yer after a pup?”

Reno nodded.

After looking through the litter of thirteen, Reno ended up picking a little black one with purple eyes. It reminded him a bit of Dark Nation, but the eye colour was definitely influenced by the Bandersnatch blood and not the Guard Hound. Paying the man for the pup, he returned to work and broke into Rufus’ office; setting out bowls for water and food and he put down a folded fluffy quilt he bought in Walmarket for the puppy to sleep on.

Smothering laughter, Reno disappeared into the air shafts once more to make his way to his next victim.