#balto of the turks

[vinjaryou]

just stand there and be pretty - that’s what it felt like their eyes said to her.

another piece courtesy of me asking friends for quotes, song lyrics, and places during work downtime last week; my good friend Seren gave me a short verse from Depeche Mode’s ‘Little 15,’ and this is what came of it~

vincent/reilena, casino AU, set about a month after their first real meeting. once again, this is unedited (i literally finished it about fifteen minutes ago), so please forgive the roughness, as it will be edited and cleaned up before being posted on AO3.

And if you could drive, you could drive her away To a happier place, to a happier day That’s exists in your mind and in your smile She could escape there, just for a while…

------

The limo door was slammed shut, the chauffeur circling the car to get back in the driver's seat; blinking at the loud thud, Reilena sighed, resting her head against the window, hands set on her lap, holding her black clutch close. Even in the dimmed vehicle, through the tinted windows, her dress still shimmered, and she lifted a hand to her pendant, holding it as she smiled to herself.

A snort from across the car. “What’re you so happy about?” Heidegger grunted, taking a cigar out of the box in the limousine’s center console. “I lost nearly a quarter million at the goddamn baccarat table – the President’s gonna want a discussion about that.” When he was given a mere shrug in response, the smile fading from her lips, Heidegger rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You behaved tonight – my luck was shit, that’s all.”

The two shifted slightly as the car pulled away from the curb of the Seventh Heaven, carefully turning into the late-night Midgar traffic; Heidegger first lit his cigar, then pulled his phone from an inner coat pocket, cursing under his breath at the messages left for him. “What the hell is Kurtis whining about now…”

Reilena waved the smoke away from her face, head still leaning against the window as she watched the scenery fly by, letting her mind drift back to earlier that night.

To her secret date with the Heaven’s best blackjack croupier.

------

Think you can slip away for a little while?

The note had been subtly handed over, the paper pressed against the underside of the lavender lemon drop that had been bought for her by a ‘secret admirer,’ Yuffie dropping a wink before smoothly turning to hand Heidegger his double scotch on the rocks. Both Cissnei and Balto – the Turks assigned to them that evening – had opted for water, as they often chose to remain sober while on duty with Heidegger.

Taking a short sip of her drink, Reilena had nodded when she caught Yuffie’s eye, hiding her smile when the host strode off, empty tray under her right arm. A second later, a hand was shoved in her face, Heidegger bellowing beside her. “C’mon, you’re usually such a stroke of luck, give th’ dice a good blow for me!”

On the CEO’s opposite side, Balto coughed into his hand; beside Reilena, Cissnei barely hid her eyeroll, and Reilena pasted a polite smile on her lips, pursing them together to blow softly on the pair of blue and yellow dice before her. Hiding her startle at the guffaw beside her, Heidegger flung the dice down the table, wrapping his arm around Reilena’s shoulders immediately afterward, pressing her to his side. “C’mon now… don’t let me down, sweetheart…” his voice trailed off into a holler of joy, the numbers coming up in his favor. “That’s my goddamn girl!” His teeth were wide and bright white through his dark, bushy beard, hands already pulling the chips toward him as the dealer began to call out bets for the next round.

When Reilena shifted uncomfortably in Heidegger’s arms, he let go of her, more concerned with counting up his winnings, and she took a long drink, violet scanning the casino floor, chancing toward the card tables.

Vincent still had a trio at his table, but when crimson met violet, he bowed his head, subtly tapping his forehead with a finger. Last game. She nodded, sneaking a wink as she sipped at the rest of her drink, and turned back to the table just as Heidegger threw down his next wager.

A tap on her left elbow.

Cissnei held out her hand, a single nod. “I’ll take your glass, Miss,” she murmured softly, leaning closer so as to whisper in Reilena’s ear. “I’ll make sure he’s distracted, but I can’t guarantee just how long that’ll be.”

A final sip. “Can you hold him off for twenty minutes?”

The Turk nodded, taking the glass as she motioned for Reilena to step behind her. She held her breath, fingers tightening on her clutch, until Cissnei nodded once more, and she backed into the crowd, slipping through a group of middle-aged couples, until she was on the other side of the aisle. A glimpse back – Balto and Cissnei were on either side of Heidegger, the burly man shaking his head at the game – and Reilena bit her lip, turning to head for the card tables.

Felt her heart skip a beat when she walked up to Vincent’s blackjack table just as the game ended, the croupier setting the BREAK placard on his table. Her face warming at his own faint blush and smile, she slipped her hand easily into his offered one, letting him lead the way to the private lounges.

He didn’t start the timer on his phone until after they were in the room, the door locked, and both seated – drinks were optional.

Time dragged when she was on the casino floor, as she knew that out there, she was nothing but arm candy to whichever of Shinra’s bigwigs she was accompanying that night. She was barely talked to, unless it was for superstitions or drink requests; anything else was unusual and a reason to worry. Even the Turks usually kept to themselves, save for Cissnei and Elena, with the men keeping a close eye on her, raising a brow whenever she happened to glance over. Just stand there and be pretty – that’s what it felt like their eyes said to her.

She needed it to slow down when she was with Vincent. To let them savor the short time they were able to spend together when she was assigned to casino escort.

It was almost terrifying to her, how deeply she felt she’d fallen in such a short amount of time. When was that first encounter – barely four weeks ago? – and yet whenever she heard that she was to go to the Seventh Heaven, all she could think of was that she’d be able to see Vincent again.

They were still getting to know each other, too. Four weeks for a normal couple would’ve had them closer she imagined, but with Reilena not knowing when she’d be assigned to the casino, meant that this was perhaps only their third real date.

Date…

The word alone brought a flush to her cheeks, though neither she nor Vincent had ever referred to these as such just yet. But… that’s what they were, right? Spending time together, warm and close, sharing smiles and laughter as they talked, still quick to blush and turn away shyly at times…

She’d rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh, her hand resting on his own as he’d slipped his right arm around her waist, listening to how Yuffie had tried asking prying questions about the two of them, Vincent’s soft chuckle sneaking in at times. Even his voice was soothing to her; soft, husky, but warm and comforting, with an underlying protective tone. It was how remembering both the way he’d whispered “Are you okay?” in her ear, and how he’d growled “Let her go” after the incident with the drunkard were able to elicit a warm flush in her cheeks. How she could sit and listen to him talk about everything and nothing during their short, blissful time together.

“…I don’t think she’s quite figured out that there’s boundaries to questions,” he continued, giving their clasped hands a squeeze, when a muffled chime rang out. Both Vincent and Reilena shifted, he taking his arm back to take his phone out of his vest pocket, while she reached for the clutch still laying on the table before them, slipping her own from the purse.

Both screens were lit, and the couple shook their heads with near-simultaneous sighs. It was Reilena who murmured “Damn it,” first, violet scanning the text message from Cissnei.

Got you twenty – Heidegger’s asking where you are. He’s ready to go to dinner, and we have a table at the steakhouse. I told him you’d told me you had to go to the ladies’ room. You’ve got maybe five more minutes.

Beside her, Vincent silenced the alarm on his phone before slipping it back in his pocket, glancing over at Reilena with a sigh. “Time’s almost up…” he said, brushing her hair over her shoulder as she nodded. Biting his lip in thought as she typed out a quick response, Vincent asked, “…could I ask for your number this time?”

Her phone slipped back in her clutch, Reilena shook her head, turning back to him with an apologetic smile. “I would if I could, but you know I can’t,” she said, catching his hand in both of hers. “It’s tracked by Shinra – if they knew about us...” her gaze dropped to their hands, squeezing his tightly, her smile warming when the gesture was returned. A few seconds later however, she gestured at Vincent’s vest, toward the pocket. “But maybe…”

Raising a brow, Vincent took his hand back, reaching into the vest pocket again. As he took out his phone, Reilena nodded. “Take a picture of us together – it’s something to hold us over until our next date.”

The word was out of her mouth before she could rethink it, her face suddenly warming; blinking, Vincent’s cheeks turned pink as well, both of them smiling shyly before he motioned for her to sit next to him, her arms around his waist again as he held the phone up. “In three, two…”

Instead of saying “one” however, Vincent turned to kiss Reilena’s cheek, pressing the phone’s shutter button at the same time, smiling against flushed skin as she giggled. Shaking her head as she sat up, Reilena waited as Vincent lowered the phone, showing her the picture as well. “There – it’s a beautiful shot,” he said, a soft laugh when Reilena shoved his shoulder, though his arm still remained around her waist. “And after our next date, you can take the new one.”

She blinked, her smile softening. “I’ll hold you to that,” she replied, giggling again when Vincent tightened his arm around her in a hug, and she rested her head against his shoulder, the embrace returned as she sighed. “Vincent?”

“Hn?” He hadn’t made any moves to get up either, despite them both knowing their time together was ticking away. Instead, claws ran gently through her hair, gold complementing dark auburn rather nicely. The tips ran along her bare back, a smile when he felt her shiver at the sensation.

“…I miss you already.” A light nuzzle to his neck after the soft admission, Reilena shifted, meaning to finally sit up and admit to herself that their date was over. Feeling Vincent’s arm fall from her waist, she reached toward the table to grab her clutch, hoping there wasn’t another text from Cissnei, as Vincent stood up with a sigh. A gloved hand was offered, Reilena smiling as she laid her free hand in his, letting him guide her to her feet.

The gauntleted hand brushed her hair over her shoulder again, sharp yet tender coolness tracing along skin, as he lifted her hand to his lips in a gentlemanly gesture. “I miss you, too,” murmured softly before he kissed her hand, a soft smile on his face.

Taking her hand back, Reilena lifted her arm to Vincent’s shoulder as he leaned toward her, claws sifting into her hair as she dropped her clutch on the table again, their kiss deepening immediately. A shiver when she felt his arm wrap around her waist, pulling her to him, she wrapped both arms around his neck, a soft, wanting moan sneaking out as her fingers clutched his back, feeling his trace across her waist.

It broke slowly, tongues taken back, lips still stealing fleeting kisses before foreheads rested against one another, sharing lightly panting breaths. A low sigh as Vincent brushed his nose against Reilena’s, both smiling as the tender gesture was returned, she snuck one more kiss in before finally resting back on her heels, fingers running through his hair as claws gently stroked her cheek.

Tender smiles, knowing nods.

----

Hands held tightly as they made their way down the hall, one more squeeze is exchanged before Vincent reluctantly lets go, straightening his vest and tossing his hair over his shoulders as he walks back to the blackjack table. It’s barely fifteen seconds after he’s stepped behind the table, the BREAK placard put away, before a quartet of men have already sat down, waiting to be dealt into a new game.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Reilena closed her eyes for a second, listening for the door to the women’s washroom to open up. Sure enough, a pair walked out, and Reilena scooted in behind them, scouring the floor just as Cissnei was walking over, hazel eyes wide.

“Heidegger’s waiting outside the steakhouse with Balto, grumbling about you running late,” she hissed apologetically, taking Reilena’s free hand in her gloved one. “What’s the excuse?”

“I was talking to a girl who’d had a fight with her boyfriend, and lost track of time? You know he’s not going to ask more if it’s something like that.” At least, she hoped so, and Cissnei nodded.

“Good one. Heidegger doesn’t have a sympathetic bone in his body.” The two women kept pace with the crowd as the Turk led the escort to the casino steakhouse’s entrance, nodding to Heidegger as she let go of Reilena’s hand. Beside the Shinra exec, Balto raised a brow at Cissnei, but said nothing. “Here she is, sir.”

Rolling his eyes, Heidegger held his elbow out impatiently as Reilena slipped her arm inside. “It’s about damn time. What took you so long?” he grunted.

She sighed. “Had to console a lady who’d gotten into an argument with her boyfriend,” she replied. “I didn’t rea…” she trailed off when Heidegger waved his free hand in the air with a condescending snort.

“I don’t need the details. What matters is you’re here. Let’s go – I’m starving.”

Balto pulled the door open, Cissnei stepping inside first for coverage before Heidegger and Reilena strode in behind her, the exec already hollering for menus as he walked them to their private table. While he wore a boisterous grin on his face as he greeted people, the smile Reilena had didn’t reach her eyes.

It was her professional smile, the one worn whenever she was at Shinra’s side, to fulfill her role in their hierarchy.  

Just stand there and be pretty.

[lightningdrawn]

Balto of the Turks AKA Katana

This guy! I'm probably going to try to do portraits in this style of all of the Turks (ha ha oh no ambition). Who should be on my list?

[stygiovictoria]

Katana

[ko1ko1f1sh]

I’ve nothing to say ehe ╮(￣ω￣;)╭

[rottenpumpkin13]

OK NO ONE talks abt how many fingers he has in the Turk pie. He has a cousin in the Turks, he’s friends with the head, he friends with several of the employees, and he has a double agent friend(Kuns). One of his special moves is calling and air strike. The some of the Turks almost went against shinra to retrieve him.

Ignoring most of that, how does ags react to Zack like, being ig involved w them. I feel like the SOLDIERS would kinda hate the Turks lol. Especially meeting a Fair relative would be fun

*Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal are on a walk through the building with Zack*

Cissnei & Kunsel: Hey Zack!

Zack: Sup, besties!

Reno: Wassup, Fair *pats him on the back* Are we still on for Saturday?

Zack: You bet!

Tseng: Hello, Zack.

Zack: Tseng! My man!

Balto: Hey, cous!

Zack: Eyy, fam! *they embrace briefly*

Rufus: Good evening, Fair.

Zack: Shinra Jr! My guy, how's it going? *they pat each other on the shoulder*

Genesis: Who in the goddess's name are you???

Zack: What? I'm popular!

Sephiroth: Suspiciously so...

Zack: What does that mean?

*Elena walks passed him*

Elena: Hey, Zack! I need 30 grams tonight. I'll pay you tomorrow. Thanks!

*She walks away. Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal are left there, all of them thinking the exact same thing*

Zack: ...

Zack: ...

Zack: Oh! I'm the local bird food supplier—

*Angeal faints before he can finish his sentence*

[eaymtb]

This will never stop being funny to me:

"Originally, Lazard was going to flee. As soon as Veld confronted him later on in what ended up being chapter 9 about the money, Lazard was going to save his skin and run. And then Veld actually happened, dear gods, he’s so fucking hot??? I have issues and I don’t even care. Anyway, Veld was supposed to be Threat, not Daddy, and Lazard was supposed to skedaddle and I’m really glad that didn’t happen, because I thoroughly enjoy their interactions.

Also my self indulgence created a whole ass tag on AO3 for this crack ship."

Anyway, the Turks are one of the very few things where I intentionally ignored the FF7 timeline. Several of them are recruited during the events of Before Crisis, which doesn't even start until the end of Feb 2001 (Or [v] - εγλ 0001), but I didn't want to make up characters for the Turk investigation when there are a whole bunch that already exist and that I really like. So I just decided this was going to be one of those rare instances where I would say fuck it, canonical accuracy (or as accurate as one can be with the mess of incomplete and contradictory lore that compilation has) can take a hike, and they're all magically already Turks. And then I went ahead and also named Nunchaku Tamaki (Because his character and design instantly made me think of Tamaki Suoh from Ouran High School Host Club) and Knife got named Chau (Because of Scott Pilgrim, despite not having anything remotely in common with the character otherwise, lol.) I also just decided that Chau and Tamaki were on Aerith rotation for September so I wouldn't have to try and explain who they were in text, which is why neither of them ever get mentioned, ha. And probably ~never will~ either. They just get to live in my head.

And the head-canon notes below that, because that's actually something I can just copy paste out of that tab in the spreadsheet, read:

Reno is in his head, extremely intuitive but flighty, chatty, distract-able. Rude partners well with him because Rude is grounded and pragmatic, he keeps them focused and directed and notices details. Alvis and Freyra work well together because Freyra is enthusiastically determined to prove herself but she’s a country girl, while Alvis can be lackadaisical about protocol and is a city boy. Freyra makes sure they dot their I’s and cross their T’s, and Alvis isn’t competitive about being the best so he’s really happy to cheer on and support Freyra, and gives her credit for keeping him on task. Juget and Ruluf are what Tseng considers his heavy-hitter team. An ex-mercenary and an ex-mob enforcer, they’re both ruthless and pragmatic. Ruluf also genuinely treats Juget as one of the guys which they appreciate. Together they have a ranged combatant and a close combat combatant. Ruluf is very familiar with Midgar and it’s slums, and Juget is familiar with hunting down a target out in the world. Maur and Cissnei pair really well for canvassing and investigations that require speaking to people. Cissnei covers the innocent pretty young girl and Maur the older, respectable and polite hard working man, which covers most civilians really well. Maur also treats Cissnei respectfully, and can be protective of her, which Cissnei finds sweet (and also secretly appreciates). Emma’s strengths lie in forensic accounting and researching. She works best alone. Balto and Chau pair well together personality-wise. They both appreciate beauty and wish for the world to be a better place. They are surprisingly idealistic for Turks.

I put that bit of thought into what Turks Tseng would assign to what activities back in chapter 4. It was some of the research and world-building done alongside figuring out Cloud and the kid's journey and the investigation itself. Ruluf and Juget get assigned to investigate the caves under Banora with a SOLDIER 2nd because they're the most effective combat team. Emma does the forensic accounting, while Maur and Cissnei canvas Hollander's neighborhood, speak to his colleagues, and investigate his home. And Freyra and Alvis came along with them to Banora because they're, in my mind, kind of like Reno and Rude 2.0: The Rookies. The fact that Alvis uses a rod weapon, has red hair and was also a slums rat; he's so obviously a baby Reno, it's adorable.

[case-of-traxits]

I Know What I Know (if you know what I mean)

Omg, does this count as fluff?!  I had a lot of fun with this one, I'll be honest.

Nov 12 || Day 3

Dead drop / Exchange / "Refuse is our inspiration; terrorism is our trade."

[Turk Week] [Master Post]

Word count: 2265 words. Content Notes: Interdepartmental cooperation at its finest. Really. Not sarcastic there at all. Characters: Reno, Rude, Tseng, Cissnei, Emma, Alvis, Ruluf, Freyra, Maur, Juget, Balto, Tseng, Veld, Heidegger.  [Just missing Nunchaku and Knife, tbh.] Soundtrack: "What I Am," by Edie Brickell & New Bohemians. Summary: There's a system for getting possibly less than legal things in the Tower.  Heidegger knows the Turks are at the center of it.

There was an exchange system available in the Tower, not that anyone would say that.  In fact, if pressed, not a single Turk would admit to even knowing about the exchanges.  They weren't, strictly speaking, above board.  But everyone benefited, and more importantly, there was a protocol for how the exchanges worked.

(Cissnei sat perfectly straight in the chair, her eyes wide as she stared up at Heidegger, who had chosen to stand specifically so that she would be intimidated.  At least, she assumed that was why he insisted on looming over the table, just like she assumed that was why he'd chosen her to start the interrogations with.  "Are you sure?  That doesn't sound like it follows protocol, sir.  What?"  She looked over at the security officer, dutifully sitting there with his notepad as he asked her questions.  "Have I ever participated?"  She looked back up at Heidegger.  "Sir, I didn't even know these things were happening.  How could I possibly have participated?")

Anything anyone could want could be obtained for a price.  And provided that the system was followed exactly.  The first step was to initiate the communication.  There was a mailbox just outside the coffee shop on the first floor where a letter with a request could be left.  After a day or so, an outdated form 86-H would appear in the paperwork that was handed out in the morning.  At the bottom would be printed the price for your request.

(Emma tilted her head, a low, tuneless hum escaping her.  "I see.  So you think these exchanges are detrimental to the cohesion of the unit?"  There was a moment of silence, and then the security officer stammered out something that sounded like a 'no.'  She nodded.  "Ah... Apologies.  I misunderstood.  So no, you don't think they're a problem at all."  Again, another set of stammers and Heidegger scowled at her.  "In that case, why are you questioning us?" she asked, and when he started to yell, she sighed.)

( Posted on AO3 )

[villagerain]

@steeleidolon --

It is as public as a public venue can be -- more or less. Not precisely the highest class of bars, End of the Line resides in the sliver between the transit station and the corkscrew tunnel vehicle access, and serves grounders who may need to wait for the train until last call as much as it serves Plate-dwellers looking for a taste of the underbelly without the grime of Wall Market.

It may as well be a speakeasy lifted from fifty years ago and deposited three hundred meters above the ground. Nicotine-stained brick and amber lights, wrought iron cup-stools, plush leather benches worn to a patina, a dark hardwood bar, real wood and brass in an age of synthetics, all paint a picture of run-down opulence.

And then there's the karaoke setup. Kunsel descends to whistles, the odd catcall, a tossed-crumpled gil note (with a phone number, it looks like), and then jeers as he cedes the stage and the microphone to an unsteady salaryman who is ruddy-faced and eager for the next song. Must be a regular. It's early yet as these places go and the crowd isn't that large.

Kunsel is mostly out of regs, not that over-knee boots and fitted trousers are terribly uncommon. The hug of long-sleeved mesh and angle-patterned dark fabric draw attention away from the lambent gleam of eyes in the dark. Not to say he did not bring the other half of his uniform--it's within sight in the clear-paneled gun cabinet behind the bar. Swords and coat, right next to someone's shotgun. Maybe the barkeep's. Maybe not.

Playing by the rules and all.

Kunsel helps himself to a perch on a stool right nearby with an air of sprezzatura he may not feel at the eerily familiar face.

"Oof. Why are you looking at me in that tone of voice?" He manages wry as he orders something strong and citrus-forward. Maybe he'll even get to finish it. "Was it that bad?"

A Turk outside of uniform is still a Turk. Balto has eschewed the usual suit jacket and white shirt for a satin, navy blue shirt buttoned up to his collarbone and white slacks, but he is not here without purpose. That delineation between profession and personal does not exist for him anymore. The higher you climb, the older you get, the smaller the view out that window becomes. 

SOLDIER First Class, Kunsel. Newly promoted. Not his usual type, but that hardly matters. 

Balto keeps his head bowed, providing his undivided attention as his companion’s rich baritenor shares space with the warmth from old-fashioned, power hungry incandescents and exposed brickwork walls. 

He's already nursing a drink by the time Kunsel snakes his way back through the rounded tables with their glossy, vinyl black marble finish. The ball of ice in his glass bobs on its amber bed as he sets it down and leans against the bartop on one elbow with his body angled towards Kunsel.

"You could benefit from vocal training." There's something resembling a grin on his face, more in his eyes than the line of his mouth as he meets Kunsel’s gaze over the top of his glasses. "It wasn't bad, objectively speaking."

Good enough to impress the crowd, although the reception of most any performance always improves with a pretty face.  

“I can’t complain anyway.” If not for a direct invitation to attend, he’d be sitting out in the cold on the rooftop right about now, half-asleep with a headset on. Good to know the brutal honesty approach isn’t a total wash. “So, why the change of heart?”

Balto breaks eye contact briefly to glance at the bartender as she slides an eye wateringly bright, orange cocktail across the way.

“Sector Eight Cocktail.” She looks between the two men beneath a fringe of brown bangs, guessing at their association perhaps, before the curiosity drowns somewhere in the need to address the demands of the bar’s other patrons. Attractive in the conventional sense, despite the fake lashes and dramatic winged liner. Balto catches her attention before she can turn away by wiggling his fingers ‘hello.’ 

“Hey pretty miss, I’ll have one too, please.”

[ceaselxss]

//yeah the BC turks are a time bc all we know about them is maybe a name and a sentance of lore

Rod, who's name is Alvis or Crisis, is an ex biker gang member who is arrogant and cocky Two Guns, Ruluf, is an ex bodyguard for Don Corneo and has trouble with being professional Shotgun, Freyra, is from a wealthy hunting family and the Turks wanted her bc she was so good at hunting?? Martial Arts (Male), Maur, is an ex cop and had nowhere to go beside the turks after he was forced to quit the police force. The concept of police in ff7 that arent connected to shinra is wild to me because i dont know if they exist. are there police in ff7 outside of this lore tidbit???? Martial Arts (Female), Juget, an ex merc whos not like other girls joined the turks through a recruitment drive - which i cannot imagine Katana, Balto, whos a beauty loving wonderous swords person from Gongaga who was able to singlehandedly defeat a bunch of people then gave himself into jail Cissnei who was raised by ShinRa and still doesnt trust the Turks Gun, Emma, who gets to actually be a character because shes directly connected to a Turk from the maingame itself

and then Knife and Nunchaku who don't get names; knife who just grew up alone and apparently gained enough skills to be a turk, and nunchaku whos a bored rich kid who actively wanted to join the turks

Before Crisis just gives some really interesting implications and never justifies them, they just leave you with it

[gcldfanged]

Jae rating the other Turks, like: Tseng- Scary, but you get like horny and afraid Ruluf- That is my emotional support bastard/How dare you try to kill my boyfriend Jules- He is my homicidal little meow meow who has never done anything wrong, in his entire life/'how much could a potion cost, 1000 gil???' Freyja- Tiny bunny in love with giant girlfriend who's five times his size Ren- Like a loving Big Sis but the type who'd draw a dick on your face with sharpie when you're passed out drunk Reno- Shares food with, chill bro Rude- The bigger chill bro Elena- Rookie, Greenie, but respects because she was running a fucking bar and collecting intelligence when she was what- in middle school or some shit? Balto- Would hand him over to Satan for one corn chip Rod- Diet Reno™ zero calories Gun- Would buy her a drink, would buy her several drinks Cissnei- One minute she's all chill and normal, then bam- You wake up in a tub full of ice missing a kidney Juget- GIRLBOSS, STEP ON ME, I'LL JUST CRAWL AND BE THE GROUND THAT SHE WALKS ON Martial Arts Male- who

[disentomb]

∗ 49﹕ sender  brings  receiver  [ coffee / tea ]  in  the  morning . || ∗ 43﹕ sender  kicks  receiver’s  shin  beneath  a  table

whichever is easier for zack or balto! @villagerain

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 . | accepting.

"Mm," he grunted for the fifth time now, a pamphlet shielding his face from view. Propaganda against the company always made for an interesting read at the start of the day, especially the hastily reproduced kind. The rudimentary drawings, the crude language, calls to action that would certainly only end in bloodshed. A mug joins the table, the rich smell of hot coffee exciting the senses, leatherclad fingers blindly reach for the handle without so much as looking away. Grasping nothing but air. A sudden thud sends a splinter of ache through his shin. The paper manifesto crinkles subtly between his gloved fingerpads, the hand extended to the cup twitched.

A plain-faced look slowly unveils from behind the pamphlet, suggesting nothing of what was going through the mind of Rude as he finally, finally addresses his fellow Turk, seated across from him. Attempts to break his focus had gone unsuccessful, it was hardly a wonder that it resorted to kicking underneath the table to grab attention. Rude took the coffee, and assessed its contents with a single, neat little line dimpled between his exceptionally groomed eyebrows, a jingle of earrings as he bent closer. It appeared, from the outside, like an intense analysis. It isn't what's inside the mug that has turned him inward, just a bid for time to find the right words to expunge himself for the crime of being so ungrateful and uncommunicative. ( Unaware, perhaps, that by continuing this quiet consideration it was only prolonging the illusion of silent treatment. )

"Sorry," he says, having chosen to start there, giving a negligible gesture the usual morning libation. "And, thanks." As if in explanation, the pamphlet is slid over across the table. The front cover was scandalizing at even a glance, depicting the most public faces of the company in hyperbolic proportions, features exaggerated and their tongues atwist together. In private, when Rude had first seen it, it got a good chuckle out of him.

[exiled-turk]

' my network isn't what it once was, ' and that was putting it lightly. his defection had seen roughly half of the turks leave with him, and while those numbers were still impressive, they were without the network they'd built - there was still a trust there between his turks and those who had stayed with tseng, but the wound was still raw.

the remaining turks would be watched - tseng was under immense scrutiny to ensure there were no doubts about his allegiance. if veld tried to tug on a few old leads, then he ran the risk of putting his former comrades in danger. for now, they had themselves and their skills to rely on in lucis.

' i have two in the crown city right now, another in lestallum, two in ravatogh and one within tollhends stronghold, ' the latter had taken careful planning, but veld had every faith in balto to play the role required.

'if i get information of an airship or contingent heading to meldacio, you will be the first person i notify - i give you my word. '

pulling the front door inwards, veld took the liberty to step outside onto the rickety porch of the house, the salty tang on the blustering wind a welcome relief to the still air within caem's main house.

"An' if yer tryin' t'do the right thing like ya say so, m'sure y'all'be able to give us heads-up if he does." Dave wasn't usually one to demand so openly, but this felt like a more than fair trade for what this feller was claiming. He'd done let Baldur be kept captive for an entire lifetime, knowin' his wife an' boys were alive. Least he could do was let 'em know if Caligo got wind o' where Sarah was.

The difference in that lady in the time she'd been freed t'now was night an' day. She smiled an' laughed, had a humour 'bout her he hadn't seen since he'd been a newly-promoted Head Hunter an' visitin' far away Galahd. An' he despised that 'playthings' term. She was a talented woman; fierce an' demandin' respect. Like so many other ladies who called Meldacio home.

"Ya done yer homework, y'know the predicament I've got on my hands. I'll do anythin' I can t'help find Baldur an' get him free if he's on this continent. I've got contacts who can gather intel, I've made that clear an' so have y'all. But if there's word o' a move on Meldacio, y'gotta let me know. I gotta get my people clear." Dave would help find Baldur regardless, but he wasn't above making this sound like a trade off. It wasn't. He didn't have the hear not to help find the man, but his friends an' family couldn't be the collateral for that.

[katana-otoko]

@iosonostanco

Rolfo stopped dead in his track upon hearing a familiar, yet unexpected voice. That guy... "Kit Kat..?" It couldn't be, could it? He turned around and acted like he was cool, all while being all giggly and delighted inside. He'd have kissed Balto if it didn't look gay. The former bodyguard went for a hug instead. "Long time no see, bro." No way Rolfo would let him go without a talk this time. Damn, TG's straight ass got the hots so bad for this man it was a shame. It was Rolfo's little guilty secret. And here he thought he had grown past it. Of course TG would never tell his friend. He opted for the easy way instead. "How have you been? Wait, no, don't answer. Let's go have a drink? Have you eaten?"

There's no mistaking Katana for any other TURK--or any other person. That scar, and his grin. He has a way about emerging from the crowds when one least expects him, even after a very long time. Noticing just how swiftly Rolfo moved, at least able to brace for impact as he's given a hug. It's a lot different to the backwater TURK, chuckling as he reciprocates a hug. "Ah," Balto doesn't get a word out before offered a drink--something he'll definitely accept, considering his recent return. Not at all bothered with being cut off, he picks up where left off. "I'll take your offer... it's been some time since I last ate, now that you mention it."

[proxnotxaxfool]

You can’t talk me out of this.

this wasn't how things were meant to go. after all the shit the turks had pulled themselves through and all the catastrophes they'd narrowly avoided, how could they not clamber back from this?

but freya wasn't backing down or flinching in her determination; she was leaving.

she was leaving the turks and abandoning her post. did he understand why? yes. of course. the whole shitshow of avalanche, elfe and veld had worn them all down and it had caused a schism in their ranks; veld was gone. as far as the president and the directors were concerned, he was liquidated and his leadership had been transferred to tseng. but among their ranks, they all knew the truth.

alvis, emma and balto had dropped off the radar a few days ago. cissnei was wavering, he could see that himself and ruluf's phone, ID badge and personal effects had been left in the rec-room ... didn't take a genius to put two and two together and figure out what had happened there.

and now freya too?

holding her steely gaze for a long, silent moment, reno blew out a shallow breath, nodding his head towards the door. if her mind was made up, then he knew better than to argue with her, regardless of their now differing loyalties.

' — i'm not gonna try. go, but i can't cover for you, freya. if you leave, you're on your own. '

@shotgunxturk

[rottenpumpkin13]

How would a pool part with everyone go?

The Pool Party From Hell

• They rent out the rooftop terrace for Kunsel's birthday pool party. (Kunsel can barely swim btw. This is red flag #1)

• I would say red flag #2 is Zack and Cloud dragging in a whole Kalua pork while chanting "Pork par-tay!" but it's actually the birthday cake Roche brought in that reads "Happy birthday Knussel"

• Lazard shows up to wish Kunsel happy birthday but stays around to chaperone after he overhears Cissnei ask Angeal when the live ducks are coming in.

• Oh yeah, speaking of Cissnei, her and a bunch of other Turks showed up too (Cissnei is besties with Kunsel and the others tagged along).

• That being said, Reno showing up with a water gun called "The pulverizer 5000" then shooting a geyser at Cloud, who's thrown into the pool, is red flag #3.

• Angeal: WHO'S PLAYLIST IS THIS? THEY'VE PLAYED WAP ON LOOP FOR 20 MINUTES NOW

Kunsel: Excuuuse me for wanting to listen to real music on my birthday.

• Genesis is the designated drinks mixer. He's working the bar in nothing but board shorts while chatting up the pretty girls who come by.

• The prettiest girl (Sephiroth) comes by, plops himself at the bar and puts his head down. (He's also wearing nothing but board shorts and the girls' eyes are immediately on him

Sephiroth: I'm not having fun.

Genesis: Can't see how. If I were you I'd be canon-balling into the pool, playing soccer with Zack or ...... *he squints at something in the distance* what's Cloud doing?

Sephiroth: Reno blasted him with the pulverizer so he's making him eat it.

Genesis: Or helping Cloud assault Reno! See? Endless fun to be had.

Sephiroth: It's hard for me to let loose.

Genesis (💡): I've got just the thing that'll help you!

• Genesis immediately turns around and starts concocting a bright red drink.

Sephiroth: I'm not sure alcohol will help me. My body has a hard time reacting to alcohol the way it's supposed to.

Genesis: Don't worry! That won't happen with this drink.

• He slides the neon red shot toward Sephiroth.

Sephiroth: What is this?

Genesis: Don't worry about it. Just drink it.

Sephiroth: ???????

Genesis: *groan* Just drink it!

• Sephiroth apprehensively downs the shot in one go.

Genesis: So? Do you feel any different?

Sephiroth: Not really.

Genesis: Don't worry. It'll hit.

Sephiroth: Yes, but how long will it take to—(⊙‸⊙)

Genesis: Did it hit?

Sephiroth: (⊙‸⊙)

Genesis: It hit.

• Meanwhile the live ducks arrived and are swimming around the pool while half the people play Marco Polo and the other half dance.

• Reno got ahold of the aux cord and is now playing his lewd music on full blast while Lazard and Tseng stand at the bottom of the stage screaming "TURN IT OFF"

• Reno's response? "What? I can't hear you the music is too loud!" *Said while cranking it up louder*

• Zack tried to pet a duck, angered it, and now Elena and Angeal are trying to pull it off his face. Cloud is actively filming and laughing.

• Shotgun and Balto (turk) start pouring gallons of soap into the pool to make it foam up.

• Red flag #4 is Roche rolling in a jet ski on some wheels in hopes to use it in the pool.

• He never gets to do that though.

• Hurricane Sephiroth rips Rude's glasses from his face, puts them on, then canon-balls into the water with Genesis. Both are clearly beyond drunk when they start sparring right there in the pool.

• All hell breaks loose after that.

• One thing I will mention is that Genesis and hyper-drunk-Sephiroth end up with their arms around each other screaming the lyrics to Mamma Mia (Abba).

[lightningdrawn]

Balto, aka Katana from FF7 Before Crisis. Just kind of a rough sketch, I’ve been struggling to finish anything lately.