Off-duty? Yeah, right
It wasn't usual to see the redhead by himself.
It wasn't as if he was ever a socialite, no--for really those who grew up with the notoriety of the Turks, despite everything that had happened and ShinRa no longer being ShinRa, the Turks were still the Turks: a band of murderers, kidnappers, and lapdogs of the once president of a corporation many saw as evil and at the same time others saw as their salvation--but that Reno of the Turks was almost always flanked by his partner, the more quiet of the two, or even the sole female in the group.
But right now, strolling through the darkening streets of Edge, he was alone, seemingly at ease with the looks and cautiousness aimed toward his person. Almost laughable really, how such a simple human without even the enhancement of mako running through his veins, could garner such reactions from others, even if that fear was solely ingrained into them by years alone.
His destination was clear: that bar that rested within the confines of Edge, its original buried within the dust and debris of the remnants of that plate that he himself caused to fall without no remorse. Orders were orders, after all, and it wasn't personal by any means.
Grin firmly in place, the Turk pushed open the doors, eyes immediately focusing on the sole blond in the room.
"Yo, Spikey!"
