idkmybffpyramid: (pic#5790876)
Reno ([personal profile] idkmybffpyramid) wrote in [community profile] ruffians 2014-01-12 09:06 pm (UTC)

your tl;dr is always beautiful (also i'm deciding reno is just BACK IN THE DISCO because of reasons)

[Always Reno, indeed. He's not been here long - a day, maybe two - but it's only taken a fraction of that to ease himself back in. The differences were superficial, the people, the monsters. The state of each building. He'd learned quickly enough that they were transient and less essential to him and his survival than maybe he entirely believed.

Discedo, though. It never changed. No matter how much fucking work they put in it never changed a goddamn bit; he remembered the pulse and the layout and the stink of it just as well as he knew Midgar. Knew immediately where he'd been left and how to find his way around. Beyond the short few minutes it took him to catch his bearings once he'd accepted he was back, it was like waking up. Like being home was little more than a pleasant dream and this was the reality of his life. Astounded by the familiarity of Horton and the way walking its halls eased a slight heaviness in his chest.

Like coming home.

The apartment had been a bust - obviously not taken over again in however long he'd been gone, but his weapons and his research stash were gone - and he felt himself longing for something to tether him and remind him of the times here that weren't horrible. A little something to keep his head on straight since it was impossible to know how long he'd be stuck this time.

Which is how he ends up walking the streets, checking the alleyways next to buildings for a familiar bike. Perhaps it's reckless and ill-advised, but unless it had been destroyed it would still be around. Far too useful for salvage. It's when he's checking behind Lander that he hears the familiar clink of spurs and for a moment - a brief, shining moment - he thinks that's what he's looking for. Something or someone that doesn't make him want to tear himself apart in that familiar cocktail of frustration and hopelessness he'd so come to hate.

Then he remembers.

The memories are still coming back, and this one hits like a sledgehammer. He pauses to steel himself and eventually walks out onto the main road to meet him face-to-face. They'll come across eachother soon enough - they always did - he may as well just speed the whole thing up. Get it over with.]


Been a while.

[Hands in pockets. Lazy smirk. Casual. Like this is nothing. Like it's not exactly the opposite of what he needs right now.]

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