Shinra, by Reno

Title: ShinRa, by Reno

Author: Enide Dear

Pairing: mild RenoxRude

Rating: psychotic Turks, mentions of violence



A/N: Reno’s thoughts about the people he work with.



Rufus ShinRa:

Reno had a theory about being rich, at least about being as filthy rich as Rufus ShinRa, spoiled brat and vice president of a company that more or less ruled the world. Being a Turk, Reno spent a lot of time watching the rich and the powerful and making sure they didn’t kill one another in public. Or, sometimes, killing *them*, when he was ordered to do it.

Reno had observed Scarlett and Reeve Tuetsi, Heidegger and Palmer and he’d drawn his own conclusions, deep inside were no one would ever know. The ShinRa executives were important people, world builders, even. They walked quickly, talked loudly, knew every nuance of protocol for fancy dinners and bribery there were. They moved like sleek sharks amongst smaller fish, constantly watching and protecting what as theirs.



Rufus….Rufus were different. Rufus walked in his own stately pace, in the absolute conviction that no meeting would ever dare start without him. He didn’t’ scream at people or even talked very loudly, because when he spoke, people listened. He didn’t care about eating with the right fork at a restaurant, because whatever fork he chose would *be* the right one. He didn’t have to run around and gather information because the Turks did that for him.



No, Rufus ShinRa was no shark. He was a kraken, and the Turks were his tentacles.


Elena:

“It’s cold! Let’s hit Avalanche and go back to Midgar!” Elena complained as they trudged through the snow at Icicle Inn.



Reno threw a glance at the rookie Turk. She was wearing fluffy knitted mittens with a cat pattern on them and her equally fluffy and matching woolen cap was drawn deep down over her ears the tip of her nose was getting red. She didn’t look like a Turk, she looked like someone’s poor little freezing little sister.



Of course, Reno knew it was all a sham. Those fluffy mittens were perfect for hiding the knuckle dusters he knew she was wearing – much to the surprise of anyone she hit. The woolen cap had razors sown into the edge, their gleam hidden by the wool. She probably had scalpels and wires and what not hidden all over her body. Reno had had part in her training after all, and he didn’t underestimate her. He’d seen her create a diversion by lightning tampons on fire and throwing them at people. That was the fun with Elena; you could strip her to the bone and she’d still be able to draw a razor blade out from some god-forsaken place and cut up your face with. He had the scars to prove it.





Tseng:

Not much ever scared Reno, but Tseng did. It wasn’t that his boss was a cold-minded sociopath, hell no, Reno had been slapped with enough labels in his life to ignore things like that even though when it came to Tseng it was probably true. But through his life Reno had met lots of people much colder than Tseng, people who used others to get what they wanted, people to whom human lives meant nothing except as means to an end. Reno could handle that, no problem.



No what scared Reno about Tseng was the man’s absolute work conviction, his devotion to ShinRa that bordered on a fanatics. ShinRa was just a company. Sure, it was a good company that paied Reno to scare people and beat them up, but it was just a company. It wasn’t worth Reno’s life.



Reno had asked Teng once why he hadn’t joined Soldier, ‘cause of all that training and discipline and stuff he seemed so fond of. Tseng had just looked at him for a few seconds with those cold – not dead, never dead, in face dead would have been *better* than the frantic light in there – and finally shrugged:



“Honor is not a burden I can afford.”



Reno had never asked again. But he had the cold notion that Tseng would return from the dead if he had to, just to see ShinRa through.









Rude:



Rude was quiet, silent, and liked to watch stuff burn. All kinds of stuff; waste paper baskets, homes, people, the sector eight slums. He wore his suit impeccable and had a body full of tattoos and piercings and stuff not even Reno had heard about before. And no body hair except his beard. He didn’t like hair anywhere else on his body, but he never seemed to mind Reno’s. Maybe because it reminded him of a fire. Reno never could quite figure him out, even when Rude said the red-head knew him better than anyone. He didn’t care. He liked Rude.



“I work best alone, yo.” Reno had scowled at his new partner in the beginning. “Except when it comes to sex. Hell, sometimes including sex.”



Rude proved him wrong, so many times.