[ Reno is uncomfortable. Even after that square vanishes, the memory of its origins still manage to send a cold, uncomfortable feeling up the back of his spine. It's not something he's thought much about, and that's partly because there was a very brief period of time in which, a little bit later in life (a year or two, in fact), he had bigger and more, shall we say, locally relevant problems on his hands that sort of eclipsed the past ones. That is, once upon a time, Wall Market was an absofuckinglutely disgusting place to be, especially for a kid with a special set of skills. Let's just leave it at that.
But before that, there was his cluelessness in Junon. He followed the old beats of his miserable life under the guise of idle interest in the underground scene. Even watching the face of all his personal hell change and turn into something else entirely didn't sit well with him any better as he got older than it did back then, when he was caught in the middle of it. It doesn't sit well with him now, either. Tseng mentioning any of this to him, knowing something about it, makes him want to get up and walk away. The worst part is not being sure just how much Tseng knows. Until he has a better sense of it, and because he still hasn't quite let go of his last vestiges of defense against revealing everything that he ever was or is, Reno becomes more and more withdrawn as Tseng keeps talking. Quiet, showing very little on his face.
And yet he's still here, hasn't left yet.
He meets Tseng's eye. Great. So he's got names. And now he wants to know what he knows about them. And that name... if ever there were a moment to stand up, say thanks for the potatoes and fucking walk away, it would be because of that. Or maybe more specifically because of how Tseng looks at him curiously after he says it. Reno is exceptionally good at evading interrogation, but it's plenty clear but how obviously rigid and on high alert he is that he knows a bit more than just the name. Reno holds out for a long few seconds, his discomfort settling in the pit of his stomach as if he'd swallowed a rock. He's got to put aside the vague echoes in his head of The price for gettin' you out is everything you know, punk so he can answer. ]
... Jagger played both sides of the fence. He sprung loose the real eagle-eyed catches if they weren't too popular and bought their talk to keep patrons under his thumb and the pond fresh full'a new blood.
[ Which he wishes was saying enough. Reno never once looks away, even though he wants to. What he just said is factual and not difficult to corroborate, so really, anyone could tell Tseng this if he really put his nose to the ground and sniffed out a witness. Which is exactly why it's not saying enough. Because if it were that easy, he Tseng wouldn't need him for this. ]
He had a side business. He called it "bread for rats."
[ What've you got for me today, Red? Here. Talk with your mouth full. You look wrecked. ]
Never was too smart about not paying up front. Blamed it on my face. Said it was too pretty. Didn't stop him from kicking it in when we got tired of each other's shit, though.
no subject
But before that, there was his cluelessness in Junon. He followed the old beats of his miserable life under the guise of idle interest in the underground scene. Even watching the face of all his personal hell change and turn into something else entirely didn't sit well with him any better as he got older than it did back then, when he was caught in the middle of it. It doesn't sit well with him now, either. Tseng mentioning any of this to him, knowing something about it, makes him want to get up and walk away. The worst part is not being sure just how much Tseng knows. Until he has a better sense of it, and because he still hasn't quite let go of his last vestiges of defense against revealing everything that he ever was or is, Reno becomes more and more withdrawn as Tseng keeps talking. Quiet, showing very little on his face.
And yet he's still here, hasn't left yet.
He meets Tseng's eye. Great. So he's got names. And now he wants to know what he knows about them. And that name... if ever there were a moment to stand up, say thanks for the potatoes and fucking walk away, it would be because of that. Or maybe more specifically because of how Tseng looks at him curiously after he says it. Reno is exceptionally good at evading interrogation, but it's plenty clear but how obviously rigid and on high alert he is that he knows a bit more than just the name. Reno holds out for a long few seconds, his discomfort settling in the pit of his stomach as if he'd swallowed a rock. He's got to put aside the vague echoes in his head of The price for gettin' you out is everything you know, punk so he can answer. ]
... Jagger played both sides of the fence. He sprung loose the real eagle-eyed catches if they weren't too popular and bought their talk to keep patrons under his thumb and the pond fresh full'a new blood.
[ Which he wishes was saying enough. Reno never once looks away, even though he wants to. What he just said is factual and not difficult to corroborate, so really, anyone could tell Tseng this if he really put his nose to the ground and sniffed out a witness. Which is exactly why it's not saying enough. Because if it were that easy, he Tseng wouldn't need him for this. ]
He had a side business. He called it "bread for rats."
[ What've you got for me today, Red? Here. Talk with your mouth full. You look wrecked. ]
Never was too smart about not paying up front. Blamed it on my face. Said it was too pretty. Didn't stop him from kicking it in when we got tired of each other's shit, though.