Reno was tired. Not just tired, exhausted. Riding around in cramped quarters with a she-devil was bound to take the piss out of anyone. His ass and legs ached, his mouth was dry, and Reno was hoping he’d be out of here before the smell of oil and Scarlet’s perfume made him sick. The longer the drive carried on, the more Reno’s annoyance grew and the more Reno found himself wanting to light something on fire. Preferably something blonde.
Lucky for Reno, he had two choices, and one made itself more appealing by screeching at him.
Lindblum’s tall spires breaking over the horizon cowed his mounting annoyance. Reno’s rage diminished as more and more of Lindblum filled his vision, until all he could think about was how glad he’d be to get out of this stupid thing and getting stone cold hammered. Well, maybe he’d take a leak first, THEN he’d definitely go booze his ass off.
The thought faltered once he was out of the cockpit and staring up at Lindblum. What kind of fairy tale bullshit was this? Would this place even have a bar? That rat bastard monkey boy Zidane had the nerve to tell him cigarettes were produced here? He was going to hurt something, and hurt something good if this city turned out to be as squeaky clean as it looked on the outside.
He caught the cigarette wordlessly, his face a window to his inner thoughts as he stared up at the city.
FUCK
He ignored the both of them and wandered off behind the nearest tree. Trails of cigarette smoke leaked out behind it, as well as the sounds of a man relieving himself.
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Lucky for Reno, he had two choices, and one made itself more appealing by screeching at him.
Lindblum’s tall spires breaking over the horizon cowed his mounting annoyance. Reno’s rage diminished as more and more of Lindblum filled his vision, until all he could think about was how glad he’d be to get out of this stupid thing and getting stone cold hammered. Well, maybe he’d take a leak first, THEN he’d definitely go booze his ass off.
The thought faltered once he was out of the cockpit and staring up at Lindblum. What kind of fairy tale bullshit was this? Would this place even have a bar? That rat bastard monkey boy Zidane had the nerve to tell him cigarettes were produced here? He was going to hurt something, and hurt something good if this city turned out to be as squeaky clean as it looked on the outside.
He caught the cigarette wordlessly, his face a window to his inner thoughts as he stared up at the city.
FUCK
He ignored the both of them and wandered off behind the nearest tree. Trails of cigarette smoke leaked out behind it, as well as the sounds of a man relieving himself.