RPG The Turks: Perspective Upon a New Conflict [Coarse language, excessive violence]

[Zidargh]

[color=darkblue]The man looked up and shook his fist of the pain that had surged from the table and onto the side of his clenched fist. [i]Aah...[/i], Reno let out a little sigh and then raised himself into the chair comfortably and smirking. Turning gently in the chair away from the table, Reno signalled for the radio intercom from a Sergeant Wilks in the security section of the Task Force.

The military-disciplined man turned around and pulled out of the wire socket a small, phone socket-like intercom. Reno reached out and grabbed the device and then placed it into his lap. Looking down, there was a series of off buttons that served no real purpose but only to raise the price of the gadget in today's technology market. Except for a series of numbered, little black buttons, there appeared to be a flashing, translucent red button, and so Reno pressed it, followed by a beep from the machine and a familiar voice from before the mission was taken upon.

"Evening, Reno Montague. Major Hawksky here." A manly, almost friendly voice replied by the beepings.

"Evening to you too." Reno replied with a tone of reluctance of even pressing the button at all, he hated scoldings.

"We hear you failed the mission--"

"Before you even start we--" Reno interrupted but only to be interrupted again.

"Put your ***** on the line, yes we know. And we're grateful for that, despite your organisation's past, you're a determined and reliable one."

"Thanks... I guess."

"Anyway, you failed the mission, but regardless, we got what we wanted, the torpedo that is."

"You got what you wanted?"

"Yep, I believe one of my soldiers returned the favor of the diversion you caused."

"Diversion? Oh! The sniper, yeah, thanks for that."

"Oh, not at all, you did distract the enemy after all." The Major laughed.

"About this 'enemy', it turns out they were called SENTINEL."

"Correct. We had just found out the name of the enemy before we set out to recover the weapon ourselves. Anyway, regarding business--"

"I understand, we won't recieve anything."

"Nonsense! You'll get just what you were offered, 200,000 Gil. However, there are issues of how you will recieve this transaction."

"Issues?" Reno questioned.

"It'd be stupid to transfer the money by the use of banking because who knows is watching that system, and I'm not just talking about SENTINEL. We ask that you come to Junon of which a contact will meet you and take you to our underwater outpost via a submarine"

"Nothing's ever easy, okay, agreed. We'll be over tomorrow morning."

"Excellent! We'll meet at 08:15 hours. Over and out."

"Hey wait a second! What did you mean by not just meaning SENTINEL?" Reno questioned in a louder tone but to no avail, the intercom had already ended the communications.

Letting the intercom go, it retracted gently from it's wirey port attached to a thin metal pole. In deep thought, Reno turned back around and smiled, taking a sip from his coffee that was made earlier. The piping hot, mocha substance slipped down his throat and refreshed him.

"Well guys, I guess we could call it a night. The night shift'll be up soon. Sergeant?" Reno turned to face the Sergeant. "You can go and tell report to the Task Force outpost and tell everyone to also call it a night and let the night shift in. You can go home to your families."

The Sergeant grinned and jumped at hearing this. "Thankyou sir! What's the occasion?"

"Just call it a holiday from me, the night shift'll have time off in the morning too." Reno smiled and grabbed his rain coat that hung onto the window sill.

"Excuse me for being rude sir, but what of the HQ?"

"Us five are leaving and won't be back for a while, so there's no point for you staying here. But be aware I may need to call for the Task Force to duty. The issue is confidential right now but be ready." Reno zipped up the coat.

"Yes sir!" The sergeant opened the doors with two other Task Force soldiers and headed down the coridoor.

"And stop calling me sir!" Reno shouted jokingly.

And so with that, Reno, with hands in his pockets turned to his (in a new light) friends, and dismissed them, of which they all stood and went to head off for their nightly business.

"We'll meet at the train station at 6 am. I know it's early but we all wanna get paid. And Rude..." Reno swiftly placed his hand on Rude's shoulder. "We're going to the bar."

Smiling, Rude gained his black rain coat and followed next to Reno to the reception hall below in the headquarters, headed for a Sector 5 bar somewhere. The others waved their goodbyes and now had the choice to either have a quiet night home for the night or do whatever they wanted.[/color]

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[font=book antiqua]To all Turks members, please do not join Rude and Reno in going to this specific bar as it is time for them to add more depth into their relationship but the rest of you can do what you want except for encountering thugs to fight for example. You could go to a gym if you wanted to.

SENTINEL, just prepare your resting place and end with you beginning to sleep as morning approaches and you must report back to the Golden Saucer. Good going guys.[/font]

[Talon]

[color=teal][i]Blaze steeled himself. It wasn't time. He looked up at Loren and sighed, moving to a sitting position.[/i]

[b]Loren;[/b]How about a thank you?

[i]She leaned in and kissed him, he kissed back. Mechanically. Loren noticed.[/i]

[b]Loren:[/b]Something wrong?

[b]Blaze:[/b]Thank you....but....I'm sorry. I can't do this. Not now. Wish I could.....if anybody, it would be you. But...I...I

[i]Blaze was about to cry. He would, actually, but his various training had given him the ability to trap his emotions before they escaped. Of course, sometimes this kicked in without his willingness or knowledge. It seemed to permanently affect his ability to love. He couldn't bring himself to break down the barrier that formed between him and Loren. It was the most potent obstacle he'd ever faced. He knew he'd have to tear it down someday.....

Loren simply nodded, understanding. He was a very focused person. Godo had said he'd be a hard catch to hold on to, especially because of his SOLDIER training. But he'd never mentioned it would be harder to snare him than hold on to him.[/i]

[b]Roland:[/b]Keep your gun in its holster, Kitsune. We've got a problem now.

[b]Blaze:[/b]I know. We failed. The torp's gone and we ended up tooled by the Turks. Boss-man probably already knows, so we're gonna sleep through the night and report in the morning. [i]Que pasa[/i]?

[i]Roland simply sighed and turned on his heel.[/i]

[b]Roland:[/b]That Wutai training of yours sure as Hell didn't teach you any respect.

[b]Blaze:[/b]It taught me to respect my superiors.

[i]Roland bristled at the insult, but he continued strolling away. As a door slammed, Blaze turned to Loren.[/i]

[b]Blaze:[/b]Respect your superiors, evaluate your equals. Those not superior are valued as equals. There is no criticism of lower rank.

[i]Loren smiled and nodded, the same morals having been drilled into her since birth. She wondered about Blaze. Wondered and worried.[/i]

[b]Blaze:[/b]Leviathan, my guns and my jacket are my best friends, though I believe Loren can be rising the ladder swiftly. We have nothing to guard here, now. You'll meet my boss tomorrow. Then we'll probably be reassigned. In any case, we have no reason to stay here with the exception of sleep.

[i]Loren looked on in confusion. He wasn't talking to her. Then she noticed the way he held onto a certain materia, a large red one. His Leviathan. He was talking to his materia. It often happened to SOLDIERs who had summon materia. Their bottled-up emotions spilled into their materia. The effect, not wholly beneficial in some cases, was that the materia appeared to have a consciousness of its own to the wielder. In a few cases, the summon actually DID develop a personality. She doubted this last one. Besides, Blaze never used it. She stopped her thoughts when she saw him sit straight up and empty his guns. He left all of his equipment, save for the Twins and materia, in the makeshift armory of the warehouse.[/i]

[b]Blaze:[/b]You're sleeping with me. Only one mattress, but I guess it'll do for you. I could sleep on the floor, I won't mind.

[i]Loren shook her head as Blaze removes his shirt and Loren settled herself for bed. Leaving her equipment within arm's reach, she pulled the sheets over herself.[/i]

[b]Loren:[/b]Where'd you get the mattresses if this was just a temporary assignment?

[b]Blaze:[/b]We get basic equipment such as ammunition and radios, but I had a friend here in Midgar who gave us a hand with luxuries.

[b]Loren:[/b]Like your cigarettes?

[i]Blaze was lighting one as Loren spoke.[/i]

[b]Blaze:[/b]Couldn't live without 'em. But now Mona and her father are dead. Mean's I'll have to find a new dealer somewhere, or else pay extra to get them shipped to my location within hours. But I love my Wutai-mades.

[i]Blaze offered Loren a smoke, but she declined. He shrugged and finished his cigarette. Somehow, Wutai-mades never contained carcinogens, never made you ill, but they were horribly addicting. Blaze smiled. He hadn't been addicted, never would be. He just loved the cigarettes. They reminded him of a life he wanted desperately to lead.[/i]

[b]Blaze:[/b]Wutai.....I'd love to make it back there and raise a family. My life won't let me, though.....*sigh* I wish I could drop this vendetta against my uncle. I oughta thank him, really. Heh. he made up my mind for me, in a way, to go to Wutai. That's my home.....

[i]Blaze fell asleep on the mattress, forgetting in his musings to sleep on the floor. He probably hadn't even known Loren was awake. Blaze had a poblem with thinking aloud. Loren moved to the other side of the mattress and fell asleep with no trouble. For a smoker, Blaze was surprisingly silent in his sleep. She wasn't awake long enough to hear when his nightmares began.....[/i][/color]
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Better, Zidargh? PM me with criticisms.

[Raiha]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]As Roland approached, Loren looked up, making direct eyecontact. He held it steadily, not looking away when her eyes flickered between bronze and honey. Then he straightened.[/i]

"We will report to our leader tomorrow morning."

"Where at?"

"You will see then. Get some rest."

[i]He stalked away and Blaze watched her response, which was hardly gratifying. She blinked a few times, then rebraided her hair, which had come lose at some point during the spell. He watched as her fingers deftly rebraided each short strand, forming a simple twist of French braids that connected gracefully at the nape of her neck. Then she took off her various weapons and set them down on the floor, waving her hand over the mound twice. Blaze blinked at the sudden light that leapt from her fingers towards the weapons in question.[/i]

"A warding spell?"

"A habbit. Keeps my stuff free from other meddlings. Invaluable when you're trying to get a little sleep and some peace of mind at the same time."

"I seriously doubt anyone here would want to try and get into your things."

"You never know."

[i]She smiled at him thinly and rolled up into a fetal position, still resting on the top of the desk.[/i]

"You know there's beds over there."

[i]He indicated over his shoulder with his thumb, but she was already asleep.[/i][/COLOR]

[Break]

[size=2][color=#CC0000]The area around Sector 5 was worse than Murisai had expected, everything was junk. The houses were bits of metal wound together with things as primitive as rope strung through holes, he pitied and hated all who lived here. A regal soul like his was not accustomed to poverty and certainly did not readily accept it. Indeed, as he strode through the dirt-streets of the slums, people stared at him with hating eyes and thin, gaunt faces. Yes, Murisai agreed that his out-of-work clothes were bound to attract attention, but to look at him like that meant that there'd be trouble.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a dim glimmer that could only come from a dagger. By instict, he lead this would-be stalker down an alley, ready for a fight, but nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

When he turned to face the thug, his eyes met with eight thugs, dressed in nothing but rags; their faces blackened by soot and dirt. Their leader, Murisai assumed, was the spikey haired one with a faded red headband, who stepped forward with a smug look on his face and a mad glare in his eyes. Murisai already knew this type and knew also how to deal with them. His slim fingers wrapped around the hilt of his blade and he let them hang loosely around it, so that he wouild be ready to flick it out at any point during this confrontation.

"Hello there my friend," the thug whined, he had an accent that sounded as if he was from the Costa de Sol, "I'm sure you know the drill by now, eh?" His cohort seemed to think Murisai didn't know 'the drill' becausing already their disgusting faces cracked into ugly-looking grins, and they had brandished an arsenal of street weapons: clubs; lock-knives; batons and the leader took a cutlass from his belt that looked about a million years old. Murisai breathed out through his nose in amusement.

"Is something funny?" asked the leader in the same, annoying voice. Murisai wondered if he would let him answer, and judging by the silence, apart from the carthartic breathing of some old man in the alley behind them, the thug would let him answer. Murisai took the short silence to think up a response that would annoy them the most. A malevolent, but at the same time patronising grin shot across his face and he uttered one word that would make the thugs go insane:

"Yes."

"What did you say?!" Said the leader, in between roars and growls from the rest of the gang. Apparently they had never experienced this much resistance during a mugging, Murisai was going to make it hell for them. He was already thinking of ways he would deal with this band of theives.

"I said..." began Murisai, "... that I do find something amusing, quite so." He smirked again. "But I warn you, I will not stand here and let you beat me incessantly. I will fight back." The smirk broadened as he made a wide gesture with a sweeping hand.

"Boys!" The banded leader screamed, "We can't let this ******* upper-class **** back talk us! Now let's beat the **** out of this ******* *****!"

With a roar, the brawniest of the gang thundered towards Murisai, flailing a club around his head. Murisai stood with his eyes closed and breathed in deeply.. when he opened them again he saw everything blurred in a mass of slow moving objects. The one traipsing towards him had a club, whom he sidestepped easily and, with a placid face, jumped and kicked hard in the back of the head.

A whale-call from behind made Murisai spin around quickly and he saw a faster blur run at him, this time he tripped it and it fell blundering into a the wall. Suddenly everything sped up and a stinging pain singed the back of his head, he put a hand up on the pain to feel for anything, and it was wet. He knew what this was straight away, he grimaced at the pain for a second, smiled and turned to meet his assailant face to face. One of the thugs, with a club stood there sniggering at him with a grotesque face.

"That was the worst mistake you could ever have made. Attacking someone with their back turned doesn't go down well in my books."

The thugs laughed heartily, "What are you gonna do ninja-boy? Make us write lines? Hahaha!"

"No.. I was thinking of something much worse.." In a flash his blade, Takendaro, had the thug's forehead impaled upon it. Sensing an immediate reaction behind him he withdrew the blade, spun round and sliced the next thug's stomach, who fell on the floor, desperately trying to hold his organs in before Murisai delivered a swift kick to the man's face, shattering his skull.

Six remained, and now consumed with anger were easier to beat.. the next charged at Murisai with a knife and attempted a few stabs before Murisai removed his hand with a downward swipe and whilst he screamed the blade cut through the spinal sinew on his neck. His head fell onto the ground with a thud, followed by his limp body which crumpled into an uncomfortable looking position against the wall. With a single upward slash, he cut across the chest and neck of the next two and they both reeled back, dead before they hit the floor.

The last two thugs, not including their leader tried to run but Murisai took out his Miribana and shot a single electrically charged ball at them which exploded on impact with them, sending white bolts into the air. The leader now whimpered, he held his decaying blade up like a feeble old man.

"You know.. there is a thin line between bravery and stupidity. You, my friend, are the latter. Let's hope you have better luck in your next life." Murisai looked upon his enemy with amusement and advanced with the bent calm of a madman. He brought the blade down vertically, but the leader blocked it somehow with his own sword, Murisai could feel the terrified shaking from the leader's own arm. Murisai's blade now started to glow, and the deadlock between both their weapons began to favour Murisai as his white hot blade began to slice through the leader's own blade with ease. Slowly, the blade pushed closer to the attacker's face.

"I'll make it slow.. you'll get what you deserve, don't fret my friend." The cut half of the thug's blade fell and hit the floor with an echoing metallic ring. Murisai gently lead his sword into his opponent's skull, and he screamed with all the air he had left, the flesh and brain stank as it was burned by the sheer heat of the Fire spell.

"How many times have you been in this situation? Many I would think, but I don't think you've ever been on the recieving end have you?" Said Murisai, wearing now an expression of disgust on his face, directed at his pitiful opponent. The screaming ceased, no one had come to his aid, no one had poked a curious head round the corner of the alley to see what was going on; that was everyday life in the slums of Midgar.

Murisai's blade stopped glowing and he withdrew it quickly, flicking some blood and brain from the sword so that it would not be so dirty. He sheathed it again, spat on the ground and began to walk out, before a loud, muscous-filled cough interrupted him. The old man that had been sitting in the corner the whole time, hidden, smiled at Murisai.

"There should be more people like you, son.. but they should be able to do a job cleanly." Murisai looked at the mutilated corpses that littered the already filthy alley and shook his head at his own carelessness.

"I let.. my feelings get the best of me. Apologies for the mess." With that, Murisai, bowed gracefully as if there was applause and walked out of the alley.[/size][/color]

[Shinmaru]

Roland stepped outside and grunted to himself. He thought Blaze and Loren were extremely difficult to deal with but that wasn't really much coming from him, since he found all people exceptionally difficult to deal with. He pulled out a cigarette and put it into his mouth. He took out a match and scratched it on the side of his holster. The flame brightened into life and emanated heat around the area where Roland gripped the match with the tips of his fingers.

Roland raised the match to his face slowly. The tip of the flame caught the end of the cigarette and lit it. Roland shook the match until the flame went out and discarded it on the ground. He took the match out of his mouth and exhaled slowly, the smoke rising into the air. Roland didn't smoke very often; only when he had deep thinking to do. However, he had been smoking a lot more as of late. He had joined SENTINEL at the very beginning, with very few qualms. After all, they were against The Turks and so was he. It was as simple as that.

Roland had been rethinking his position with SENTINEL a lot, though. True, they shared in his hatred of The Turks...but none of them were really easy to work with, either. In fact, now that he thought about it, he viewed them as being just as evil as The Turks were. But, if he thought about it in those terms, was he not just as evil as SENTINEL? This sort of thing was very confusing to Roland. Lately, he had been assuring himself that as soon as SENTINEL took care of The Turks, he'd be able to go on his way. However, after witnessing how they handled their business, he was not sure it would be that easy. More likely than not, they would not let Roland out of their clutches so easily.

Roland took another breath and let it out a few seconds later. Every time he thought about everything, it all seemed to grow that much more complicated. Roland looked up into the air. He hated being confined in one of Midgar's sectors; not being able to see the sky and the endless patterns of the stars painted above was a bit unsettling to him. Roland was not one to be unsettled very often but unfamiliarity tended to do that to a person. As tough as Roland had become over the years, he was still not accustomed to the unfamiliar, which was a major weakness of his. He was not sure whether or not this was apparent to others but he was fairly certain that he would not want to find out.

A few minutes later, Roland tired of standing outside of the warehouse and thinking the same thoughts over and over again. He didn't really need sleep but he could not think of any better way to occupy his time. Roland took his cigarette out of his mouth and tapped it lightly, sending the ash to the ground. He dropped the cigarette onto the ground and stamped it lightly, putting out the light. With one last solemn look at the roof, he opened the door to the warehouse and trudged off to sleep.

[Gavin]

[left][i][font=Verdana][size=1]From the shadows to his left Murisiai heard a distinct clapping, it bore all the hallmarks of sarcasm and as the figure strode forth he knew exactly why. Van was still clapping the fingers of one hand weakly upon the palm of the other, he had his lips pursed into a smirk of disapproval, he stroked the goatee around his face before he finally spoke to his co-worker.[/size][/font][/i][/left]

[left][size=1][font=Verdana][b]Van:[/b] A group of dead thugs, was it really necessary to mess the lace up like that... You know their parents or whoever took care of those wretches will be wondering what's happened to them.[/font][/size][/left]

[left][size=1][font=Verdana][b]Murisiai:[/b] I can assure you that it was merely a slip of emotion.[/font][/size][/left]

[left][font=Verdana][size=1][i]Van smiled back at Murisiai before walking totally out of the shadows, he'd been stalking Murisiai to see what made him tick and hopefully to get a glance at him in action. He chuckled to himself as he was made aware of just [u]how[/u] good his comrades skills were, walking over he stroked across his face again before asking him if he wanted to go for a drink. Murisiai was still looking at Van and not saying anything, it was as if he was sizing Van up for the kill, it was similar to any look you got in a Shin-Ra prison but that didn't concern Van anymore. He nodded and extended a hand insinuating that he wanted Van to lead the way, Van chuckled before walking calmly ahead of his cohort, his hand placed firmly upon this hild of his own sabre. The place stank of faeces and rodents, Van made a gesture of revoltion but continued down the alley that would lead them into the rebuilt sections of the Sub-Plate Sectors. [/i][/size][/font][/left]

[left][size=1][font=Verdana][i]After a little walk the reached their destination, it wasn't as good as some places in Midgar Plate Section but was still a damn sight better than what it had been before. The street had some proper lighting and were clean enough, he spotted a bar on the edge of the street and headed towards it with Musiriai following quietly. He pushed his hand against the solid wood door of the bar, it had a rustic feel to it but all Van wanted was a drink and a chat with his new collegue so he'd know a bit more about his background and maybe size [u]him[/u] up a little. He ordered two beers and took them over to a large wooden table near the window, he handed one to Murisiai before sitting down on the bench provided. The atmostphere was relaxed and comfortable to talk in, he took a large gulp of the beer beforeasking Murisiai exactly what he thought of [b]The Turks[/b].[/i][/font][/size][/left]

[left][size=1][font=Verdana][b]Van:[/b] So... [i]Smiles widely.[/i] What do you think of the job so far... [/font][/size][/left]

[Desbreko]

Exiting the Turks' headquarters, Reno and Rude walked side by side down the Sector 5 streets, following the familiar route that they had taken many times during the rebuilding of Midgar. The pair had spent long hours in the King Behemoth, a slightly shady bar in a more classy part of the Sector 5 plate, discussing whatever problems the Turks happened to face at the moment and venting their frustrations. Anymore, they were well known among the bar's other patrons, and as such were afforded a wide birth whenever they entered.

"Long island iced tea," Reno said to the barkeeper, sitting down on a stool at one end of the bar.

"Brandy," Rude added in turn, taking a seat beside Reno.

As the barkeeper hurried off to get their drinks, Reno sighed. "Damn that was close, Rude. We're going to have to be a helluva lot more careful from now on."

Rude nodded agreement, picking up his glass of liquor as the barkeeper returned, only to hurry off again. He rolled the auburn liquid around the inside of the glass, watching the light bend as it pierced and continued on through, before taking a swallow. "We've become over-confident. It's been too long since we've had real competition."

Reno snorted, then took a sip of his own drink. "You mean Cloud and them?"

"Who else?"

"I got so damn tired of dealing with that spiky-haired son of a *****."

"By which you mean getting your *** handed to you time and time again?"

Reno glared, and Rude smirked. That whole ordeal still stung Reno's pride. As for Rude . . . Rude just didn't give a damn anymore.

"You're one to talk," Reno scoffed. "That Tifa chick could kick your *** any day."

"True," Rude admitted. "A shame we never got to fight one-on-one."

Reno raised an eyebrow in question, but Rude just took another swallow of brandy without answer. Sighing once more, Reno turned his attention back to the alcohol in front of him, and both were silent for a long moment. . . .

"So what are we going to do about this SENTINEL group?" Rude asked at length.

[Break]

[size=1][color=#CC0000]Murisai made himself comfortable on the bench, propped his sword up against the wall and took a small sip of the beer. He put his glass neatly on the table and licked his lips before he looked up at Van, taking a deep breath.

"The job..." he started, "... is good. But our enemy seems to be deploying rather unfair and cowardly tactics to crush us, The Turks. SENTINEL uses modern machinary, and they by all means have the right to, but I don't believe it is the right way to fight. These weaklings should fight their own battles, and should not use robots with.. guns." Murisai took another sip of his beer.

Van nodded, "Yeah, I know what you mean. But you can't go on thinking like that forever can you, surely anything they launch at us will have to be dealt with one way or another?"

"I'm afraid you may be wrong there. The more machines and robots they use against us, the more we have to fight. Soon, they will have state of the art killing-machines at their disposal to do whatever they want with." Murisai sighed and took another sip from the beer glass. "Maybe I'm just too decadant, there probably is a way to get rid of all this [i]gun[/i]-technology."

The conversation paused and all around the air grew stagnant, Murisai was used to this. He simply took to his usual behaviour of sitting, staring into nothing. Van took this in and decided the Murisai really wasn't one for conversations so he decided to ask him another question.

"What do you have against technology and guns anyway?" Murisai stirred and looked up, "Don't take it personally or anything, if it's that bad you don't have to answer."

Murisai thought about this and decided that his past was better out in the open than locked away inside. "I was ten years old and living in Wutai.." He started, unphased by his own emotions, "I heard a commotion come from the village when I was training in the mountains. When I came down, I saw two men dressed in light blue firing machine guns into my house. I concealed myself behind a rock until they were gone, then went to check on my parents. They.. were both dead. I took my father's sword, blessed them both and ran from Wutai."

Telling this to someone made him feel worse, he picked up the beer glass as soon as he had finished and downed the rest, waiting for the look on Van's face to go and his reply.[/size][/color]

[Zidargh]

[color=darkblue]The silent and idle chit chat smothered the interior of the bar almost soothingly, providing a sense of comfort inside. The bar itself was warm as the smoke from embers belonging to old cigarettes rose towards the ceaseless spinning fan. The seats were of a crimson leather with odd tables scattered here and there, while the bar was embroidered with gold metal work. For a shady bar, it definitely had a feel of class into it.

You could always expect a quiet, warm welcome from the consistent bar man who always seemed to have something to do, whether it'd be cleaning a glass, serving the exhausted customers or people waiting for the person they're supposed to meet in three minutes or simply be having a drink himself, talking to the droopy eyed customer who only seeks to become close to someone, "Take up a stool and sit on down in the, King Behemoth" the bar man would say.

"SENTINEL eh? They're a tough lot but I'm just concerned with getting the money for now, and then we'll decide what to do. You know, Rude, someday I want to quit this job and leave that god forsaken place." Reno spoke in solemn appreciation of the tall alcoholic beverage he ordered.

"What's brought all this on then?" Rude replied, breathing out gently as his brown brandy levelled out it's liquid miniscule cieling in the small tumbler that was rested on the bar again.

"You know, some days I really don't know why I joined the Turks. Sure, good pay and all that, but I've grown tired of this work we do." Reno looked down at his untucked shirt that was now crumpled.

"Tseng got you in." Rude sipped the brandy enjoying the bitter, yet sweet taste linger on his tongue.

"Oh yeah, Tseng. I found it hard to deal with when he died, for one, he seemed to be the strongest out of us all. Heh, can't dwell on it I guess." Reno looked up and breathed, whilst doing so he smiled in a friendly manner at a very attractive brunette who seemed to be paying attention to him, while her blonde friend seemed to be looking at Rude who seemed oblivious to the whole matter.

"If you want to quit, then what would you do. What what I do?" Rude scratched his head as a sweat drop was secreted by a rebellious pore.

Reno turned back to Rude and swivelled the stool around so his legs faced the bar once again, "Heh, you know you'd get everything, you just like me saying it. I just want to get off this planet all together."

"The Turks wouldn't be the same without the three original surviving members. So either way, you leave, and Elena and I would follow in your footsteps and pursue a different path in life. But either way, make sure you don't get yourself killed any time soon." The transparent tumbler seemed that contained the brown beverage seemed to be overflowing with the liquid. Rude looked up the bottle carrying bar man who leaned over, listening in on the conversation, nodding at Rude who nodded back in appreciation.

[b]Barman:[/b] "Nice evening isn't it?"

[b]Reno:[/b] "Sure is. Hey, how exactly did you make a place as nice as this?"

[b]Barman:[/b] "Well you know, a dream or two and the right business plan, you've got a sure hit."

[b]Reno:[/b] "A dream huh? I have a few of those."

[b]Rude:[/b] "As do I."

[b]Barman:[/b] "Every man has a dream, you're supposed to follow it, no matter how extreme it gets. Anyway, you're from The Turks aren't you?"

(Reno and Rude tilted their heads up simultaneously in shock at the comment, almost hopeful that they could deny it.)

[b]Barman:[/b] "Ah, don't worry about it, I have no problem with it. You guys are good for Midgar, ya' keep people in line while you also rebuilt this goddamn place!."

[b]Rude:[/b] "You're the first to truly appreciate that."

[b]Barman:[/b] "Actually you'd be surprised. Anyway, lend me that gun a sec'."

[b]Reno:[/b] "What!? My gun?"

[b]Barman:[/b] "Ah jeez you're a Turk, you must carry around a gun of some sort."

[b]Reno:[/b] "Alright then."

Reno looked at Rude in curiosity who seemed to have no idea whatsoever about whether this moustached man was mentally stable or not. Reno pulled out his Colt pistol of which the barman placed down his cloth and empty tumbler and acquired the gun. Squinting in one eye, he looked down the sights and aimed the pistol at a rough looking man who seemed to be harrasing a young looking woman, picked out of the group of helpless friends she was with. Tugging on her arm, the man began to become even more aggresive until he picked out a switch knife and flipped the blade, staring and clenching his teeth at the now crying woman. Until [i]bam[/i], a quick [i]ting[/i] and the knife was found quivering in the wooden table, not even splintering the untouched wood.

Cowering, the rough man looked at the bar man who lifted the bar top and walked over to the crying woman of which he sat next to and comforted, until the rough man finally ran out of the neon lighted door in fear. "And take ya' knife with ya'!" The bar man pulled out the knife and threw it in a boomerang manner, hitting the man squarely in the leg just before the door swung to a close.

The silence then evaporated into a vapor of continuous silent chats between customers, no one, including the young woman were scared of the incident and just carried on with their night life, a typical night in the sleepless city of Midgar.

The largish, tuxedo-waist coated owner of the bar strutted back to the bar and carried on with his cleaning after handing back the gun. Reno, still in shock at the sudden skill placed the pistol back in his blazer and raised his glass as a toast.

[b]Barman:[/b] Pretty good, eh?

(The barman laughed huskily, yet very warmly, pouring away in a glass, a greenish cocktail.)

[b]Reno:[/b] "That was pretty damned amazing. Where in all hell did you learn to use a weapon, or make that [i]two[i], like that?"

[b]Barman:[/b] "In good ole' SOLDIER, I didn't agree with the stuff but it put money on the table, did a few missions with you in fact."

[b]Rude:[/b] "Yep, you did. Ex-Lieutenant Ted."

[b]Barman:[/b] "Ha ha, at least someone remembers me. By the sounds of it, it sounds like we won't be seeing you two around here for a while."

[b]Reno:[/b] "You're right there. Gotta pick up some pay, you know how it is."

[b]Barman:[/b] "You watch your friggin' back fella's, it sounds like RESISTANCE is positioning men all over The Planet, and my sources tell me they won't be tolerant of any organisations that threaten their power in our so called 'government'."

[b]Rude:[/b] "He's right. I have a bad feeling about this."

[b]Reno:[/b] "Either way, we take risks. Even though we're not going to combat, I still aint losin' you on the field Rude, you're my best friend after all."

Both fell silent after Reno's comment while a stray smoke cloud passed between them and above the head of the sipping barman who smiled at the sign of this bond. It was certainly out of character for a man such as Reno to say that, or just someone involved in The Turks for that matter, but it seemed to hit the target well.

Reno dived into his pockets and placed a note and at least twenty coins on the bar, 1,500 Gil. "If we need help, we know who to call." Reno said, standing up and winked at the brunette who looked at him flirtingly. With the odd 'thankyou's' and exchanged shaking of hands, Reno and Rude both left the bar with the burly call of, "Come on back ya' hear!?" from the barman. The door then shut, muffling the jazz music played inside the King Behemoth.

"I'm calling it a night, see you up and early at Wall Train Station." Reno said smirking sarcastically at Rude who laughed to himself and so they both walked in the complete opposite directions on their way home, well, Reno just planned to check in at the nearest hotel, he never went back home after a night at the bar.

After about twenty minutes of thinking and walking along the traffic jammed road, Reno entered a subtle, neon hotel where he checked in and with the shut of his hotel door, dropped on the bed and fell immediately to sleep with the alarm already set by Elena from earlier.

----------------[/color]

OOC: Well guys, wrap up with one post of you going to sleep now so I can get on with the next chapter, you've done a great job.

[Gavin]

[font=Verdana][size=1][b]Van:[/b] [[i]In a solemn voice[/i]] I know what you mean, [[i]removes glasses and cleans[/i]] when you lose a parent or in your case both parents it's like the entire world just falls apart at the core. My own father bless him was a very good man, he taught me everything I hold dear and when he died my life seemed to just go down the drain so to speak.[/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1][i]Van went own speaking to Murisiai about his life, how his mother and brother had died in childbirth and how his father had been the only one left to raise Van. Murisiai seemed to "open up" a little as Van spoke, maybe it was just luck but the two shared a similar past. Van spoke of his imprisonment at the hands of Shin-Ra after years of refusing to deal with them illegally about how he'd been working to make his father's company even bigger than it had been. He told Murisiai about the little weasel who'd been bribing Shin-Ra executives for his own ends, Van spoke of how he'd immediately had the wretch removed from the company... But that had been the exact opportunity Shin-Ra had been waiting for, the pounced and Van was sent to a Shin-Ra prison for 5 years, Van had already finished his drink and called over to the bar-keeper to bring over another round. Murisiai questioned him about prison life...[/i][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1][b]Van:[/b] [[i]Still solemn[/i]] It was without a doubt the toughest time in my life, there were guys there who'd gang-rape you and then beat you to death like an animal... they were animals... but I guess we were all animals. The guards never cared about who lived and who died as long as they got to go home at night, [[i]Takes gulp of new beer[/i]] heck sometimes they'd join in when someone was getting a beating and finish the poor bastard off for fun... FUN!! [[i]Slams fist down onto the table[/i]][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1][i]Van had smashed his fist down on the table harder than he realised as the room went deadly quiet, he looked about with a obvious frown of disapproval and one by one the people turned back to what they'd been doing. Van apologised to Murisiai for that scene but Murisiai remained as quiet as before, he wondered what made Murisiai so quiet and himself so fiery. It seemed that their conversation would be one of asking questions about each other's live until that point, Van was by many standards still new to The Turks he'd only been a Turk for about 8 - 9 months but he combat record was impressive. Van wondered what had drawn his comrade towards The Turks, he decided to use the most direct method and plain out asked.[/i][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1][b]Murisiai:[/b] I was working as a mercenary out of Costa Del Sol, the money was good and I seemed to have made an impression on Shin-Ra, they sent an official to talk to me and after a while I decided to join... So if Shin-Ra are responsible for destroying your entire life why would you join them, or rather a sub-division of them.[/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1][b]Van:[/b] [[i]Rubs chin[/i]] Well when I was a younger man, Shin-Ra had taken an interest in me for several reasons and while I was on a trip to Cosmo Canyon 10 years ago I was approached by an agent of Shin-Ra. I wasn't interested in joining then so I declined and with a bit of persuasion he accepted my refusal, I returned home and it was later that year that my father died. What followed was Shin-Ra ruining my life and my prison term, after that I came out I was offered a place in The Turks by Reno, I knew Rufus was dead so I accepted. I had nothing left to lose and I still think it was the right choice...[/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1][i]Van picked up his glass and drained it back, he was tired and he was a bit sick of going over all the worst **** that had ever happened to him. The look of Murisiai's face told him the he was feeling the same, Van suggested they get some rest because more than likely Reno would be wanting them for some serious training in the days to follow. Murisiai nodded and the two got up, Van paid for the drinks and both headed back home, Van had been fortunate enough to have hidden away enough of his inheritance to now afford an apartment on the Upper-Plate section. Entering his bedroom he undressed and lay down between the sheets, he was exhausted and as his eyes drooped down he feel asleep...[/i][/size][/font]

[Desbreko]

The streets had a slightly damp feel, a fog of low level cloud wisps wreathing about the tall buildings of the plate. Beyond the fog it was overcast, and light rain showers were expected over the city through the next day. It all came together to form a cold, depressing atmosphere in the back alleys through which Rude now walked, heading towards his small, one bedroom apartment in Sector 5. He didn't mind, though. He had his coat to protect himself from the dank nature of the air, and the rain was not expected to begin for a good four or five hours.

Stepping through the door of his residence and walking through the sparsely furnished and bare-walled living room, he shed his coat and hung it in the small bedroom's closet. Leaning his shotgun against the wall, still in its holster, near the head of his bed, he removed his brass knuckles from his pockets and walked into the bathroom connected directly to the bedroom. Taking a rag and polish from the medicine cabinet, he began polishing the day's wear from them until they shone as new. He had had the same pair since he joined the Turks, and each day that they were used, he ended that day by giving back the golden-brown sheen which he had taken during their employment.

The job done, he replaced the rag and polish, fitting the knuckles through his fingers and staring down at his warped reflection in the curving metal that seemed to mold to his hands. The reflection showed a slight smirk of satisfaction until the knuckles were once more slipped with ease from Rude's dexterous fingers and placed neatly on the nightstand next to the bed, ready for use at a moment's notice. Tossing his clothes over the chair resting in front of a small desk, the only other pieces of furniture in the room, he flipped off the lights and retired for the night.

[Zidargh]

OOC: Everyone, I am very sorry for doing this, but the RPG is closed. At the moment, my writing quality has slipped considerably and I don't really see where this RPG is going to go.

You were all very good participants and I shall look out for you in the future. I shall request that this be closed, thankyou all.


[b][center][RPG Closed][/center][/b]