[personal profile] arghmuses
Title: Always the Same: Rude
Author: Hecate's Brat
Fandom: FF7
Rating: MA15+
Warnings: Implication of being drunk off one's ass from a Reno.
On Going (WIP)/One-off/Series: Series - Complete: Tseng (part 1), Reno (part 3)
Classification(s): possible AU, Pov-esque
Pairing(s): None really, you could read into a possible Rude/Reno though.
Author's Notes: My Rude muse demanded attention.
Summary: Rude's moments as he gets ready before work.



Amber eyes opened to a dimly lit room.

It was the same, always the same. Never changing.

The fan was spinning slowly, sluicing cool air over Rude’s body, brushing his torso like the breath of a lover.

The semi starkness of the impersonal room always brought his mood down. It reminded him of the things he, at times wished to forget: the seriousness, the job, the work he had to do, not to mention the constant pressure to keep his partner in line.

Once he woke, in the dim mornings, he needed to become someone else. He needed to fill the shoes of Rude, the Turk. Shin-ra’s elite task force for the Investigation Division of the General Affairs Department, whatever they did.

A soft snuffling noise caught Rude’s attention and he turned his head on the pillow.

Reno, his partner in their covert operations lay beside him, half dressed and reeking of booze.

Rude raised his eyebrows in lack of surprise and ran a hand over his face, a sigh muffled.

A list of things that needed to be done already began forming behind his eyelids. A list that was sounded off by Rufus Shinra two days earlier, and again yesterday by Veld.

Rufus was playing at being president of the company, but couldn’t take control until his father was out of the way, and Rude wondered how long that would be.

Slowly Rude sat up and stretched.

They were suppose to go to Gongaga to find a potential new recruit for SOLDIER. According to the scientists, this young man would be considered for the next Sephiroth. Rude rolled his eyes at that and made his way to the bathroom.

Slowly, like every morning he pulled out the shaving kit and laid the instruments out, lather brush, new blade, lather, straight edged razor and a couple of towels.

The sound of running water filled the bathroom and the warm steam quickly enveloped the naked form.

The stiff towel grew limp and gave way to the hot water. Hands pressed on the marble counter top and Rude sighed again. He realized he would need to wake Reno soon and try to sober him up.

However, for the time being, it was a moment in time, a sliver just for him. For him to prepare for the day.

With slow and considerate care the towel was drained of its excess water and wrung; the towel was now soft against Rude’s face. He placed it on his stubbly scalp and relaxed from the warmth.

Closing his eyes he reached for the lather and brush. The movements came unbidden, second nature really; like breathing or fighting. The tension flowed out of the tall form, the slowly cooling cloth felt soothing, like lyrical salve from a team leader after a bruised ego.

Movements were smooth and the lather began to foam on the brush. The towel landed with a soft splat on the counter top and the sounds of the brush on scalp was soon heard.

Silence, much like the majority of the life he lead as a Turk, was all he had to offer to the steam.

Placing the brush and lather bar on the casing, he picked up the razor, changed the blades, never once looking at the equipment his hands held. Never once worried about making a mistake; being trained as he was, one had to have trust in themselves. Or failure would occur.

The goatee on Rude’s chin touched his chest, and the scraping sound of the straightedge was heard softly echoing in the bathroom. The blade followed the nape of the neck, up to the occipital bone, and over the curve of the back of the head. The blade sliced through water until it came up clean and the process started over again. Motions filled with precision shaved the rest of the curves on Rude’s head, leaving a bald crown.

Amber eyes peered back from the mirror. The hot water faucet turned on and steam quickly hid the watching eyes.

Once the tall Turk was sure that there was no more hair, the blades were cleaned and wiped down, the brush rinsed off of the excess lather, and all tools were placed back into their proper places.

Snuffling and incoherent mumbles overtook the silence and Rude knew that Reno was up, and soon, he’d have to take care of his partner.

It was always the same.

Date: 2011-10-09 03:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] notraffic.livejournal.com
I really liked all of these, but this one was my favorite. The way you describe Rude shaving his head is so visceral and almost frightening in its precision, even though it occurs effortlessly and is a boring, routine process for Rude himself.

I know we both share a common love of Rude, and I think you really nailed him here. This presentation of his character is perfect--how he's so calm, so routine, so precise, but at the same time, he's sighing internally. And I like how his feelings about Reno are ambiguous here, while Reno's part is much clearer. How Rude is sort of like, "Here we go." But in Reno's part, it's totally, "THANK GOD FOR RUDE. HE WON'T MIND IF I TOTALLY FALL INTO HIS BED." And maybe I'm missing something, but it seemed like you were intentionally being ambiguous (?) as to whether this might be a semi-established non-monogamous relationship-type-thing (how's that for hyphen city?), or if in Reno's part, his lust is a new arrival. Then again, in Rude's piece, he's not surprised to see Reno there next to him. SO MANY QUESTIONS TO PONDER.

Also, I loved Tseng's part too--the ritualistic way he applies the tilak, the calm and then the storm outside as he's ordered to hurry it up. It was both sad and intriguing, given the way you filled out his history, etc.

I loved all of these. I look forward to seeing more of your fics soon. ^_^

And of course, Rude = ♥

Date: 2011-10-09 03:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hecatesmuse.livejournal.com
Thank you!

I know when I originally wrote these, I had the mental auditory moments where I could hear it in my head. Of the tilak being mixed. The change of textures from something dry to something possibly paste-like. The crackle of the incense stick burning down and the sound of hair sliding on hair as he pinned it up.
Rude's was the slide of a straight edge over stubble. That soft shtck of razor against skin. The soft sigh of feeling a hot towel on your skin and the almost hollow noises that echo in a bathroom.
The ambiguous was on purpose because I wanted Reno to have an almost pining for Rude, because to me, it's something Rude doesn't discuss. Won't go into who he likes. It took a bit for him to say he had a crush on Tifa in the game, and nothing comes about from it. Even the mention of a possible Rude and Elena thing. I can see Reno asking for hours or possibly days about this one little slip of the tongue.

In Reno's part, it's the first time that he's more aware of this lust that's toward Rude. He's fairly certain that it's not just the booze blurring edges and that there is something there. Of course, being Rude and the lack of personal-relationship conversation that might or might not take place would make Reno hesitant. That and I'm sure that if he pressed Rude too much, Rude would kick him out and do it in a manner that would wake Tseng and then Reno would get in shit.

In a way, I wanted to have Tseng and Rude to have the calm mornings and Reno to have the end, the wild night that fades into their calmness. Both Tseng and Rude strike me as men who do things in a routinely manner even when their day is filled with wildness and storms.

Thank you again! I'm trying to put all my fics on my writing journals for ease for myself. (had a moment of "i knew i posted them..where did i post them?" and then started panicking because i couldn't find them! yay rambly!)

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