[ Tseng tries to look like he isn't surprised, and Reno couldn't be more delighted at the turn of events. Honestly, it's a surprise to him that Tseng doesn't know. Maybe he never saw, back in the day? Maybe Veld never told him? Honestly, though, it's probably for the same reason that almost everyone else in the Turks would be surprised—because they don't know the history. Even Veld might not have ever truly understood it, probably (definitely) thought he was fucked in the head when he pouted and sulked for days after being told he wasn't cute enough to do the dressup missions anymore. He was just so god damn fucking good at it! And he loved doing it, loved completely hoodwinking some nasty fuck in a cute getup. He'd love to explain his thought process to Tseng on this. He'd probably get a kick out of it.
In a minute. For now Reno just smooths the dress down over the length of him again, admiring how short it is, thinking how fucking killer his legs are going to look. ]
Oh, yeah. Absolutely. I still got it!
[ Pretty sure Tseng was asking if it would work for the job, not for him. Whether Reno knew that and was being silly or if he only catches on belatedly, it's a moment of playing with the sleeves, stretching his arm out to see how they'll hang before he looks up with anything resembling attention again. ]
It'll work for our man, too. Always said he loved a skinny bitch in a short skirt and long sleeves. Aw, man, this brocade... takes me way back. It's fuckin' perfect.
[ Way back to hell, in fact! Two different kinds of it! Just out of curiosity, Reno lifts the collar of the dress to his face and inhales, but he can't really pick up the smokey scent of incense clinging to it, so it must not be from Wall Market. Or, at least, not that part of Wall Market. This odd behavior, at least, he bothers explaining: ]
You could always tell an expert apart from the amateurs by how much their shit smelled like sandalwood. They'd charge by the incense stick. Take too long and you'd just get smoked the fuck out. The ones who weren't any good, they'd just reek of the stuff.
LMFAO <3
In a minute. For now Reno just smooths the dress down over the length of him again, admiring how short it is, thinking how fucking killer his legs are going to look. ]
Oh, yeah. Absolutely. I still got it!
[ Pretty sure Tseng was asking if it would work for the job, not for him. Whether Reno knew that and was being silly or if he only catches on belatedly, it's a moment of playing with the sleeves, stretching his arm out to see how they'll hang before he looks up with anything resembling attention again. ]
It'll work for our man, too. Always said he loved a skinny bitch in a short skirt and long sleeves. Aw, man, this brocade... takes me way back. It's fuckin' perfect.
[ Way back to hell, in fact! Two different kinds of it! Just out of curiosity, Reno lifts the collar of the dress to his face and inhales, but he can't really pick up the smokey scent of incense clinging to it, so it must not be from Wall Market. Or, at least, not that part of Wall Market. This odd behavior, at least, he bothers explaining: ]
You could always tell an expert apart from the amateurs by how much their shit smelled like sandalwood. They'd charge by the incense stick. Take too long and you'd just get smoked the fuck out. The ones who weren't any good, they'd just reek of the stuff.