Since when indeed. Tseng returned the smile, though his was far less bright than Reno's (and quite possibly less manic as well). "Because you have always reacted well to a verbal slap, when needed. I've hardly ever had to resort to beating sense into you - something I look for in my men - after all, it saves on wear and tear." The glint in his eye could possibly be considered demonic, but Tseng's sense of humor was always more morbid than most.
He didn't reject the arm over his shoulder - in fact, it was hard not to relax slightly at the comfort. It had been a hard set of weeks and Tseng was, if he attempted to be honest with himself, holding on by proverbial fingertips. Leaning back, not overtly enjoying the warmth from Reno's arm (but something the Turk could read anyway) Tseng shrugged slightly. "Everything affects me, Reno. The point is that I am Tseng, and I do not allow such things to influence me. At the moment..." He considered the question - making sure Reno realized that he was answering truthfully, not simply as The Director. (Things had changed once Midgar Fell, and Tseng relied on his men for more these days than simply following orders.) "I'm handling it rather well, considering. I'll be happier when we have a secure position, proper defences and weaponry, and a materia replacement that will work to heal what wounds we collect. Elena is working on making potions more potent for us, which I hope will prove useful - I dislike relying on others for assistance. Rufus has plans in mind, and soon we'll need to set them in place. I don't like this world - and I like even less the utter lack of knowledge to the force that brought or keeps us here, the dark-age mentality to the people, the lack of industrialism. This is going to be difficult."
The man sighed, finally, meeting mako-tinged eyes with black and sombre ones. "I dislike the thought of what we will need to do here, knowing our work at Edge is years from complete."
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Tseng returned the smile, though his was far less bright than Reno's (and quite possibly less manic as well). "Because you have always reacted well to a verbal slap, when needed. I've hardly ever had to resort to beating sense into you - something I look for in my men - after all, it saves on wear and tear." The glint in his eye could possibly be considered demonic, but Tseng's sense of humor was always more morbid than most.
He didn't reject the arm over his shoulder - in fact, it was hard not to relax slightly at the comfort. It had been a hard set of weeks and Tseng was, if he attempted to be honest with himself, holding on by proverbial fingertips. Leaning back, not overtly enjoying the warmth from Reno's arm (but something the Turk could read anyway) Tseng shrugged slightly. "Everything affects me, Reno. The point is that I am Tseng, and I do not allow such things to influence me. At the moment..." He considered the question - making sure Reno realized that he was answering truthfully, not simply as The Director. (Things had changed once Midgar Fell, and Tseng relied on his men for more these days than simply following orders.)
"I'm handling it rather well, considering. I'll be happier when we have a secure position, proper defences and weaponry, and a materia replacement that will work to heal what wounds we collect. Elena is working on making potions more potent for us, which I hope will prove useful - I dislike relying on others for assistance. Rufus has plans in mind, and soon we'll need to set them in place. I don't like this world - and I like even less the utter lack of knowledge to the force that brought or keeps us here, the dark-age mentality to the people, the lack of industrialism. This is going to be difficult."
The man sighed, finally, meeting mako-tinged eyes with black and sombre ones. "I dislike the thought of what we will need to do here, knowing our work at Edge is years from complete."