#.obcreno

[turkleader]

ask-the-red-haired-turk replied to your post:

I love seeing your Tseng ramblings! I would ramble about Reno if I had coherent thoughts lol. We’ll definitely be seeing a lot more of the Turks thanks to the way we do cutscenes now!

[ooc] I’m glad they’re enjoyable! And we’re already getting cutscenes that we didn’t have in the original game, which is thrilling. The fact that we get to see Tseng go to Elmyra’s house and pick up Aerith is amazing.

My partner and I were just talking about how there are certain opportunities that it would be amazing to get to experience. Like getting a fully rendered and voice acted version of when Cloud is in Junon, disguised as a Shinra Infantryman, and we can come up on the Turks chatting in the bar there. Moments like that would be incredible, because not only would it give more insight to the Turks as non-opponents, but it would give additional complexity to the already complex relationship between Avalanche and the Turks. I know we won’t get to see that until the second installation of the Remake, but I can’t help but wonder about all those moments we had in the original game, and then wonder how many new moments we’re going to get. I hope we get more. I hope we get to see the difficult duality of what it means to be a Turk, and what kind of fine line they walk between all sides in this fight.

For instance, the other part that I’ve never been able to explain away, the part that really weighs on me-- as Tseng, and as the mun-- is how we’re going to have the dropping of the Plate explained. ...what are they going to do? Is it going to be undeniably our fault, as the Turks, that the Plate fell and all those people were murdered? ...how do we explain away the slaughter of so many thousands upon thousands of innocent lives? That blood is on our hands. It always has been. And no matter what reasoning I tried to use to explain it, it always felt like something that we were responsible for. Sure, the order came from higher up, but did we really sit there and do nothing? Did we really let all those people die without trying to save them, warn them, anything? Did we really not fight, at all, to stop this from happening?

Even if we did try to fight, we never saw it in the original game. Maybe we’ll get to see it this time.

But does that change anything? We still did it. We’re still responsible. Those people are still dead.

How do we come back from that? Murder might be part of our jobs, but the Turks have always had more autonomy than the other units employed under Shinra. Part of why we’re so dangerous and effective is because of our autonomy. We’ve disobeyed orders. We’ve been traitors to every single side of the fight. We’ve stood up for ourselves and our own morals, and no one else’s before. We see that in Before Crisis, in Last Order, in Crisis Core, in every iteration of the Compilation.

But Reno still pushed the button that would drop the Plate. Tseng still didn’t stop it from happening. We can’t blame Avalanche for not being able to disable our technology. We really can’t blame anyone but ourselves.

...how the fuck... is the greatest blemish of our entire careers... going to be portrayed? Because no matter what else we’ve done in the past, and no matter what we do in the future, there’s no excuse for what we did to Sector 7. I don’t know if there ever will be. But damn... I can’t...! *Sighs* ...there are some things that destroy me inside, that I’ve been wracking over in my brain for years. And now... we’re so close.

Guess we’ll see what kind of people we are when the sun rises on April 10th, huh?

[turkleader]

Drinks and Old Rumors

Part 1 of 7 Written for FFVII Halloween Week 2019.

Prompt: October 26th - Scary Stories [ghost stories, old legends, tales of the supernatural, creepypasta]

Summary: It's Halloween week and the Turks are shooting the shit at 7th Heaven when an old rumor about Tseng rises from its uneasy grave.

Description: This is the first piece in a multi-part story that follows Tseng (and those he encounters) over the course of seven days. I took inspiration mostly from the "old legends" and "tales of the supernatural" parts of this prompt, but tried to make it a more lighthearted experience to start the week off with. I hope you enjoy this little piece, and happy Samhain and Halloween to all who celebrate!

👻

A note before we begin: In case anyone is unfamiliar with the official names given to the Before Crisis Turks, I’ve included them here at the beginning of the story for reference. I hope this helps!

Rod (Male) - Alvis Crisis Gun (Female) - Emma (Elena’s older sister) Two Guns (Male) - Ruluf Shotgun (Female) - Freyra Martial Arts (Male) - Maur

Enjoy the story!

“I bet you Elena could take your ass three out of five times, at least, easy.”

The redhead scoffed, laughing. “Yo, I ain't about t'take a bet like that.”

“Come on!” the light-haired brunette goaded. Her thick ponytail almost fell into her drink as she leaned forward across the counter of the 7th Heaven bar, grinning past comrades new and old. “Why not?”

“Yeah,” Elena chimed in, a cunning smirk spreading across her face as she repositioned to face Reno. “Why not?”

“Rigged,” a dark-haired man with sharp bangs muttered.

The bald man beside him nodded.

“Oh, you're absolutely no fun, Ruluf!” the ponytailed woman pouted. “And neither are you, Rude!”

“I mean, it doesn't make sense for him to take an unfair bet, Freyra,” a large, well-built man with short brown hair spoke up.

“There it is,” Ruluf said, pointing at Maur.

“Since when does the Reno of the Turks turn down a challenge?!” Freyra exclaimed, jaw slack and brow raised in an attractive taunt.

“Oh, it's a challenge now?” Reno shot back. “An' who's footing the bill if I win?”

“If...” Rude emphasized quietly.

Ruluf sighed and laid his face down on the bar.

“Sounds like Reno's buying me my next drink if he knows what's good for him,” Elena said, her expression smug.

“And he shouldn't be the only one,” Freyra declared with a giggle, tossing back her drink.

“I'm beginnin' t'remember why I don't make bets with you, yo,” Reno said, flipping off Elena and Freyra as he turned away to flag down the bartender.

“Don't put your mouth where you're not ready to put your gil,” Freyra winked.

“Wait, you guys are serious?” the bartender interrupted, setting down another drink for the ladies. Her intense ruby eyes flickered between Freyra and Elena as she hurriedly lifted a hand in apology. “No offense meant, Elena, but I didn't know you had that kind of reputation in the Turks.”

Elena opened her mouth to respond but a new arrival cut her off.

“Are we discussing our win-loss records?”

A blonde woman with a stunning resemblance to Elena took a seat at the bar, giving Tifa a knowing smile as she motioned for her regular.

“Emma!” a scattered chorus rang out from the gathered Turks.

“Big sis!” Elena exclaimed with warmer surprise than she used to bear her elder sibling.

“Hey guys. Hey sis,” Emma greeted as Tifa playfully rolled her eyes and went to grab her drink. “So? What mischief are we getting up to tonight?”

“Trading drinks for bets,” Maur supplied with a wave, a shrug, and a smile.

“So is Ruluf winning or losing?” Emma asked with a slight smile, thanking Tifa for her drink and using the fresh glass to indicate the dual gunner with his face planted against the countertop.

“Losing,” Tifa put in with a half-amused, half-exasperated smile.

“How was I supposed to know the rookie had a black belt or whatever and was hand-raised by Tseng?!”

“Really?!” Tifa exclaimed, looking at Elena with a new respect.

“An' this is why our slumdog lost almost every bet he took,” Reno declared and stole Ruluf's drink, tossing back a swig.

“You really should know better than to underestimate a Turk,” Freyra chipped in as Rude nodded.

“Especially my sister,” Emma joined the discussion, shaking her head.

“You'd think he'd get the hint after betting against me five times.” Elena shot a withering glare at Ruluf.

“...wait,” Emma began.

“Yep!” Reno added brightly, finishing off Ruluf's drink. “He finally made the right choice the sixth time!”

Ruluf lifted his head, forehead and nose red from where they'd pressed against the counter. “Again, how was I supposed to know?!” he demanded, irritated.

“Tseng wasn't the only one looking out for her,” Rude said.

“She had our undivided attention after you all went dark.” Reno puffed out his chest, looking proud.

“Hey, I aced all my intro and advanced training, and all my exams but one, and that was without your help!” Elena reminded, flushing at the attention despite her best efforts.

“Yeah, well— I don't think anyone'll question yer commitment to seeing the mission through t'the end these days,” Reno said. His voice sounded strange, but every member of the Turks—retired and active—knew what he meant.

A thick silence settled upon the group.

Concerned stares glanced their way. Hushed voices began to brew between the patrons. They didn't need to hear the conversations to know what was being said— 'Hellhounds of Shinra. Death dealers. Murderers.'

Some people had begun to forgive them.

...but it was all too soon to forget.

“Alright Em,” Freyra spoke up at last, pushing past the heaviness that had pulled them each into their own familiar hell. “Who's the one Turk you wouldn't want to go up against?”

Emma didn't hesitate.

“Tseng,” she said.

“Aw, c'mon Em!” Reno groaned.

“What!” she said, raising her voice slightly to be heard above the sudden influx of bar patrons coming in after the dinner hour. “Would any of you want to fight him?”

“It's no fun choosing the immortal,” Ruluf said, nodding his thanks to Barret's daughter as she brought him a refill on his drink while Tifa was busy with the new crowd.

“Immortal?” Marlene asked, brown eyes sparkling with curiosity as she paused in the middle of taking away the Turks' empty glasses.

“Don't tease Marlene like that,” Elena chastised.

“It's not that much of a stretch,” Reno said, shrugging. “He should've been dead how many times?”

“For all we knew... he was dead—dead more times than any person has the right to come back from,” Ruluf stated, ire lost from his voice.

“Maybe it's true then,” Freyra confided, eyes shining.

“Oh boy,” Elena sighed.

“Not this again, Frey,” Maur protested gently.

The hunter folded her arms and leaned across the bar counter, a mischievous curve to her lips as she beckoned Marlene into her confidence.

“There's an old, old rumor that Tseng made a deal with Death—a deal Death couldn't refuse,” Freyra whispered ominously.

“Yeah, the same one Veld did,” Reno scoffed.

“I heard it happened before he joined Shinra,” Emma remarked. “That he swore an oath to one of Wutai's deities so he could cross the ocean to get to Midgar.”

“And that's why he can't die?” Marlene inquired, brows furrowed as she puzzled over each suggestion, empty glasses forgotten.

“It's all just rumors and supposition,” Maur assured the young girl, but even he sounded doubtful.

“Isn't he able to pull that shit off 'cause of the Full Cure materia Veld gave him back when he was a rookie?” Ruluf questioned.

“Nah, there were times he didn't get the chance to use it and still survived,” Reno dismissed.

“The Temple,” Rude clarified, tone solemn.

“Shit,” Ruluf cursed under his breath. “Forgot about that.”

Elena bit her lip and suddenly grew very interested in her drink.

“It's not all that unusual for the Turks to have those experiences though,” Emma noted, trying to steer the conversation away from the sensitive topic. “Remember when Alvis fell into a coma only to wake up three years later?”

“Yeah, and Freyra almost put him back into it when she nearly hugged him to death,” Reno taunted.

“You're just mad 'cause I got to mess with him before you did,” she retorted, sticking out her tongue at him.

“I think it was the one-two punch of Cissnei and then you right afterwards that really got him,” Emma observed, trying to suppress a smile.

“What about Vincent?” Marlene suggested, catching the group's attention. “He used to be a Turk. My dad told me when they found him he had been asleep for decades. And Cloud says because of the experiments that were done to him that he might never grow old or die.”

“Shit,” Ruluf laughed, more out of surprise than humor.

Rude cracked a small smile. “Someone's got us all figured out.”

Marlene wasn't deterred.

“Did they do experiments on Tseng, too?” she asked. “Is that why you guys keep coming up with stories to cover up the truth?”

“S'far as I know, he's a hundred percent real human being, untampered,” Reno said.

“Tseng was out for a while too after what happened in the Temple,” Elena said, finally finding her voice again.

“That wouldn't explain everything that he'd miraculously survived before then,” Maur said.

“A'ight, Rude,” Reno interrupted, turning to his partner. “This might be a long shot, but d'ya think it might be his other materia that's gotten him through all that shit?”

“What materia?” Maur asked, confused but curious.

“Ohhh we're getting into those goodies now?!” Freyra exclaimed. “I thought that was just talk!”

“Nah, it's real,” Reno confirmed. “At least, the materia is. I dunno if what they say about it and Tseng's true though.”

“What materia?” Maur repeated. “This is the first I've heard of it.”

“Tseng wields an Enemy Skill materia,” Rude said.

“Mastered,” Reno revealed.

“Holy...!” Maur uttered.

“Yep, there it is!” Freyra exclaimed.

“What the shit?” Ruluf scoffed. “First of all, how is that possible? Don't some of the enemy abilities you need to learn to master that materia kill the person upon casting?”

“Yep,” Reno said.

“Then it's not possible,” Ruluf decided.

“...unless he's ~immortal~,” Freyra sang from her end of the bar, grinning.

“Actually, there is an enemy skill that can be gained through use of the Manipulate materia that prevents Death magic from having any effect on the user,” Maur informed. “Perhaps this is how he's been able to master the materia and escape from so many fatal situations?”

“Maur!” Freyra shouted. “You are seriously the worst! Stop ruining my fun with your facts!”

“A mastered Enemy Skill would go a long way in helping someone to stay alive,” Emma considered.

“Maybe the bastard's just lucky,” Ruluf declared and took a long swig from his glass.

“Is this someone I should know about?” a new voice suddenly broke through the group's discussion.

Turning, they found the devil himself had arrived, amusement warming his grey gaze as he joined them. But before anyone could respond, Marlene planted a hand on the counter and stared the Turk down.

“Are you an immortal?” she asked him matter-of-factly.

Tseng raised a brow as his Turks looked between him and his interrogator.

“Not that I'm aware of,” he answered, approaching the bar.

“So you didn't make any blood oaths to any demons or gods?” Marlene pressed.

The warmth in his eyes flickered. The beginnings of a smile edged across the corner of his lips, but there was no joy in it.

“No, though sometimes it feels that way,” he confessed.

Marlene nodded, considering his answers. She lifted a finger.

“One more question,” she said.

The gathered Turks held their breaths, waiting.

“Do you guys wanna join our Halloween movie marathon night tomorrow?”

The disappointment was explosive.

Tseng laughed as his coworkers fell into grumbled and mirthful exclamations.

Marlene threw them a look, and then continued as though nothing had interrupted her. “We're hosting one all day tomorrow here in 7th Heaven, and I think you guys should come. It'll be fun!”

Tseng inclined his head in gratitude, a true smile crossing his features.

“I have a few things to handle for work tomorrow, but I will try to be there,” he said.

“I'm sure you'll make it,” Marlene said and promptly headed into the kitchen.

Tseng looked after her before turning away, shaking his head softly.

“Yo, bossman! You're late so you're buying the next round!” Reno shouted.

“Whoohoo! Drinks on Tseng!” Freyra cheered.

“To the immortal, lying bastard!” Ruluf joined in.

“Cheers!” the Turks toasted him.

[End]

[turkleader]

Yo, How is ya day going? Asked the redhead somewhat moody. This was his way to cheer himself up, who knows had Tseng also a bad day or something hilarious to share with him.

The Turk Leader lifts his gaze, but only for a moment, in the midst of a complicated assimilation task, paperwork and what seemed haphazardly strewn folders spread out over his desk. “What is it, Reno?” came the words, a little tersely, as the Wutain’s eyes flickered up from a document all the way to his left, to the computer screen at his right hand.

A faint smile however soon showed, the initial dryness to his query easing as the other Turk’s mood remained consistent. His voice rumbled a little, in that quietly underlying way that reminded someone almost of a purr, rummaging and caught in the throat, and which rose in the Turk’s voice only when he was pleased by something, if even then.

"Lose yet another game to Rufus?" was the teasing addition that he let hang in the air.

[turkleader]

If someone came up to you and asked to braid your hair, would you let them?

Innocent as the query may seem, it’s usually within my own best interest to deny such requests. Experience has proven I need much caution when it comes to situations concerning my hair, especially once it became longer again….

[turkleader]

You make me want to... LALA~!!!

*He raises a brow and holds your gaze for a long, patient moment, and then turns back to his paperwork unruffled.* So long as you accept that your desires will not be met within this office, presumably not by myself at all, then you’re free to express your wants whenever you deem it necessary.

*Clearly not the first time he’s heard the phrase or others like it; probably due to Reno.*