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nobody-viii · 1 month

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The Turks - Context Clues (The Kids Are Alright)

@accala posted an excellent inquisitive post about the Turks here and their motivations and to add some The Kids Are Alright: A Turks Side Story book context, imma leave this here. Couldn't find the quote I was looking for, but here's some things I found interesting. NOTE: I feel like Advent Children did the Turks a little dirty, but I really loved the banter as a kid. This book has some of the same campy shortcomings, but take it or leave it, here's what I found.

1.) The Healen Lodge from Advent Children was an R&R facility for Shinra, universally accepted as the worst one by employees. The Turks/Rufus chose it for its tactical advantages, but it also shows how far back on their heels they were. "The Shinra empire had ruled most of the world up until two short years ago, and it didn't sit right with Elena that the company president had to live in such a desolate place. Yes, medical treatment was available, security was way better away from the city, and the commute was only two hours by car; the staff could have had it much worse." - pg. 14

2.) The abandoned rec hall was being used by Shinra as a lab to convert SOLDIER stimulants into geostigma treatments. The project was Elena's idea, with the resulting medication being donated free of charge to city medical professionals and the WRO. (pp. 16-17)

3.) Reno & Rude were sent into the city to retrieve a stolen item from a teenager (read the book for details I'm too lazy to go into it), and when he started crying and shaking, Reno and Rude switched to a new script. "Aw, look. The kid's really scared." The redhead sounded sympathetic now. "That's what we came to do," the bald one pointed out. And: "Now, we put on our best tough-guys acts on the way over, so we can't just leave without roughing anyone up," said the redhead. "Our job is to teach a lesson to anyone who tries to mess with us." I was still scrambling for an explanation to give them. "Y-you mean, kill me?" was what came out instead. My voice even cracked for good measure. "That's one way to teach a lesson. But we're trying to strike a balance for Shinra, here. We want everyone to love us and maybe be a little bit scared. Killing you would have the opposite effect." (pg. 23) Reno opted to punch the kid in the face, then tell him to keep his chin up, so...balance? Sure. Shinra is, at this point, technically trying to figure out their PR while simultaneously leaning on old habits. Also, the kid calls Reno and Rude a knife and a fork and I thought that was funny.

4.) Reno is described as someone who looked like he 'turned delinquent as a teenager and never grew out of it, like those kids in the Sector Eight warehouses who I still hated and admired in equal measure.' (pg. 23)

5.) Elena roughs up one of the protagonists, but reins herself in when context is presented: She'd paid a visit intending to break Fabio's dominant arm, but when she saw him fight back to protect the child, she changed her plan. Her objective was to punish a thief, not deprive a child with geostigma of his only guardian. (pg. 47)

6.) Reno calls a doctor for the guy he roughed up. Kyrie nodded. "I figured, these guys must have phones, so I asked them to call Dr. Drake. 'Evan's in a bad way 'cause you guys beat him up,' I told them. And guess what? They said they don't know any Evan. So I lost it and said, 'Yeah, 'cause Evan's the one you whaled on when you mixed him up with Fabio. You owe him..... So then the redhead--his name's Reno--he called a doctor. Not Dr. Drake, he said, but a good one..." (pg. 55)

7.) Evan (the protagonist) is trying to work out who would be the easiest Turk to try to forge an alliance with and we get a glimpse of how the Turks are perceived by outsiders (Tseng is an unknown entity to Evan at this time): The most dangerous one was probably the lady Turk who went after Fabio. A close second would be the slab of muscle out there, Rude. Maybe the redhead Reno was more on our level. I thought back to my first impression of him--the grown-up teenage delinquent. Guys like that generally looked out for their own. A sense of solidarity. There had to be an angle I could work. (pg. 57)

8.) There's a whole scene where Evan and Kyrie try to ambush Rude. They choke him, break a chair over him, kick, scratch, the whole shebang and he just brushes himself off and manhandles them to a car (which made me laugh).

9.) Reno and Rude take the protagonists towards Healen in a truck and there's a few moments I found interesting. "So anyway..." Reno was looking at me in the rearview mirror. "Sorry about the shiner, dude. We totally did think you were Fabio. But y'know, I'm impressed you stayed mum and protected your buddy," Reno went on. "Even if you were about to piss your pants." (lol) Then, "Some of us have been slower to to adapt to the new way of doing things," Reno continued. "How many Turks are left?" asked Kyrie. "Can't tell you. That's Shinra's most closely guarded secret." "It's just you three, isn't it?" "Not telling." "But I'm right." "Yeah, you keep thinking that." (pg.63) Rude sleeps through the majority of the ride despite Reno trying to keep him awake. They talk quite a bit about Aerith, because Kyrie and Reno both knew her. Reno warns them not to get mixed up with Shinra's science department.

10.) Evan gets introduced to Rufus for the first time after believing the former president has been dead for two years and Tseng finally exists in this book for two seconds. "He's alive...?" Evan was still speaking to Reno. "I am. The decoy who took my place is not," Rufus replied. "You're a candidate for the position--and from what I can see, you'll do." Evan's jaw dropped, and he stared agape at Reno, then Rufus, then Tseng. Tseng looked down at the ground, trying to hide his laughter. Evan's description of Tseng: He looked like a Turk, too. The very definition of one, in fact. Reno and Rude both showed an awkward humanity--well, sporadically in the latter's case--but this guy was pure ice.

11.) An ill-conceived escape attempt by Evan and crew sees Rufus temporarily kidnapped, as Tseng and Elena are investigating an explosion. Reno and Rude try to stop it, but are ordered back. "Reno, stay back!" Reno obediently halted. I had expected to see fury in his eyes, but all I say was sorrow. Surprisingly, I felt a pang in my chest, too. But there was no other way. I pulled Kyrie's knife from my pocket and opened it--a sad, flimsy little blade, but it could still slice open a throat. "Hey, don't be stupid." I ignored Reno and held the knife to Rufus Shinra's neck. Then, "Reno, take Rude and check on the lab." Suddenly Rufus was giving orders. "Tell Tseng not to get involved here." "Wait, what? Boss, are you sure?!" "Don't worry. I'm as interested in staying alive as you are." Reno reluctantly descended the stairs, glancing over his shoulder almost every step. (pg. 77)

12.) Reno and Rude talk about family and have a lil tiff. "If I found out about a brother I'd never seen, I'd make way more of an effort than those two," Reno insisted. "That right?" Rude said. My colleagues are all I need. "You're not much into family, eh, Rude?" "I'm a Turk," Rude said flatly. "Coolheaded and cold-blooded." He turned and headed for the truck. "Hey, Rude. You pissed at me?" Reno called, an unabashed whine. "C'mon, man. You can't cold-zone me now. Tseng and Elena aren't answering my calls, and the boss just tells me to finish the monument. I know they're starting something awesome without us. We're outcasts! Me and you, you and me. If we don't stick together, then what?" Rude looked back. "Tseng isn't answering calls?" (pg. 94) Reno goes off several times throughout this book about how he'd act if he got the chance to meet family, which makes me wonder about him. "So how'd it feel, meeting your brother?" "I don't think it's sunk in yet." "Well, it's a process, I guess," said Reno. "But you gotta visit once in a while, you know? Then you'll get to figure each other out. Break the ice." (pg. 97)

13.) Reno and Rude are actually partially responsible for the monument in the city. This lil bit kinda gives weight to how long they've been in Shinra. Evan was one of those types who wasn't quite grounded in reality but was full of bravado. A show-off. A scared kid determined to buck people's expectations by pretending he had no fear. And if he kept it up, he was gonna do something stupid enough to get himself killed. Both Reno and Rude had known too many kids like that, from rookie Turks to infantrymen to SOLDIER operatives wet behind the ears from mako infusion tanks.

14.) Reno & Rude get amused by Kyrie treating them like they're not scary. The concern over redemption makes an appearance. "Now what?" Rude stepped closer from his vantage point. Apparently, he'd been watching the whole time. He was pretending he didn't care, but inwardly, Reno was convinced, Rude was intrigued by every act of the farce. Which only made the whole thing funnier. "She said she's hungry," said Reno. "So she's gonna grab something to eat." "It's like she's never heard of the Turks. It's almost refreshing," Rude remarked. So this is what happens when Shinra wins hearts and minds. Reno chuckled again but then remembered that the girl was still afraid of them. He'd seen the goosebumps on her arms. Her toothless threats were her way of gauging the danger he and Rude presented. Evan might trust them, but not Kyrie. Despite what Rude said, she knew what they were and what they were capable of. "You know," said Rude. "She reminds me of Aerith." "Yeah, I was thinkin' that too." Maybe helping them out will redeem us, at least a little bit, he thought. A guy can hope. (pg. 106)

15.) Shinra's resources are thin...and that chopper that ate it in AC was one of the last ones left (cue gross sobbing because in the words of a certain Puppy, Shinra makes good stuff). No one knew exactly how many helicopters the Shinra Company used to have. Within a half a year of Meteorfall, many of them had been looted. Accidents, mechanicals, and other circumstances had taken out others, and now Rufus Shinra and the Turks were left with only three. But even with so few, it was a constant battle to keep them in working order. Also, Rude has mechanical experience and is the one on repairs.

16.) A civilian points out the flaws in Reno's hopes for the future of the Turks. "Well, to be honest, maybe my opinion of you guys is changin'." Doyle looked at Reno again with a level stare. "You're up to better things." Reno couldn't help averting his eyes. Unless it came from a fellow Turk, approval tended to make him uncomfortable. "The monument and the medicine are only one step, you know. Just wait. It might take a while, but Shinra's gonna get off the ground again. Rise again, you hear?" That general idea had been floating around in his head for some time. This was the first time he'd said it aloud. "How?" Doyle scowled, his thick eyebrows lowering. Reno cursed himself for the thoughtless comment. "Can't tell you." "Yeah, I figured. But no one is going to let a violent regime lord it over them again. Not anymore. You tell your president that."

17.) Tseng and Elena bring up the notion of inviting old Turks back into the fold. "For any one person, finding it (Jenova's head) may well seem like a futile task. But there is still a nonzero chance. Either way, staying in contact with our agents and meeting regularly are essential to maintaining organizational cohesion." " But how many...?" Elena glanced around and spoke in a stage whisper. "How many former Turks can we expect to help us?" In his mind, Tseng saw the faces of the old Turks, his former subordinates. Of those, he had made contact with-- They get interrupted and Elena rushes off to investigate something. Tseng watched his operative go with a wry smile. Below the hem of her sundress, old scars marked her legs. Once you joined the Turks, you were in for life. Even those who tried to get out and build new lives could be summoned back with a single phone call. Maybe it was a cruel call to make, Tseng thought. and he sighed.

18.) Reno & Rude defy a direct order from Tseng. "Dumbass," Reno muttered. "What are you waiting for? Engage!" Tseng's command rang from the speakers. "Evan's down there," Rude answered in Reno's stead. "He's already done for," said Tseng. "Fire." "No can do," said Reno. "Reno." Tseng made his name a sharp rebuke. "He's our friend." "Fine. Let me briefly explain--" Tseng's voice abruptly cut out. "Radio trouble," Rude mumbled, his hand drifting away from the radio's master switch.

There are a lot of quirky, funny, violent, or neato moments I didn't list, so check out the book if you want more insight. Hope this gave you some headcanon fodder.

#the turks #turks ff #reno #rude #elena #tseng #reno of the turks #rude of the turks #elena of the turks #tseng of the turks #reno ff7 #rude ff7 #elena ff7 #tseng ff7

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qqueenofhades · 2 years

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Had an great angsty Dreamling idea - somehow either Hob or Dream gets trapped in Hell and instead of playing the oldest game with whoever is breaking the other out, Lucifer forces Dream to experience what his son had to: to walk back through Hell, his love behind him, unable to check if he's still there. And no doubt Lucifer would pull out all the stops to make the leader look back. I think it'd hurt so much more for Dream to lead too, but either way would be So Painful.

The sky is the smeared grey of ash and soot and a world that never sees the sun, that never feels the touch of warmth or the taste of joy, and endless burned cinders sift down like snow. High on the hill, the dark citadel stands alone, towers buried in the sulphuric clouds, and Dream forces himself to keep to a steady pace, his expression cold and unmoved, even as Squatterbloat snickers and hisses and cracks his whip. "Come on, Dreamlord! Move your eternal arse! You aren't going to keep the Morningstar waiting, are you?"

"Of course not." Dream can hear moaning and whispering and wailing from the catacombs that surround them, shadows flickering just at the edge of perception, weird and wild monsters that have waited an eternity for just such a chance as this. He does not turn his head, he does not look left or right. "Lead on, Gatekeeper."

Squatterbloat looks disappointed that he's being deprived of the chance for some high-quality taunting, but Lucifer must really be impatient, because the demon mutters, clacks his teeth, and speeds up again. They climb the narrow, winding stair, where a freezing wind is blowing so hard that Dream staggers, almost losing his balance. For a terrifying instant, he sees nothing but the endless black-rock abyss and the hordes of chittering, howling, hungry demons gathered at the foot of the mountain, burning torches and beating drums, slavering for blood. If he is so unfortunate as to fall, he will not be getting up again.

In a few more moments, however, the dreadful ascent is over, and Squatterbloat pulls the bell-rope. The torches burn with greenish, eerie flame, the portcullis rattles up, and the Gatekeeper proceeds inside, Dream following close on his heels. "My lady," Squatterbloat announces, in the odious, groveling persona of extreme deference that he adopts around his infernal mistress. "He's here."

"Ah. Dream of the Endless, at last." Lucifer Morningstar turns from where She stands in icy majesty, Her wings black against the white silk of Her robe. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

Dream has no time for this. "Morningstar," he growls, low and dark as the storms of hell itself. "Where is Hob Gadling?"

"He's there." Lucifer points with one carelessly elegant hand. "You have my word, I have visited no undue harm upon him. Yet."

Dream hardly hears Her. He races toward the dark cage that stands at the far side of the throne room, watched gloatingly by the Lilim, Mazikeen, who doubtless is hankering to practice her torturer's art upon the occupant. Dream reaches out, grasping desperately at -- yes, it's Hob, he is scruffy and dirty and freezing and frightened, but at least he is in one piece and he is breathing, and does not appear to have been used as a demon's chew toy. Dream's voice is more frantic than he has ever heard it. "Hob. Hob, are you all right?"

"Alive, at least." Hob manages a smile, but Dream can see the abject terror in his eyes. "So, any chance of us getting the fuck out of here?"

"I'll attend to that," Dream promises, with one more quick squeeze of Hob's hand. Then he lets go and turns around, facing down the Devil Herself with just as much cold imperiousness. "Our quarrel has nothing to do with the human, Morningstar. Release him."

"Oh, I promised that you would regret the day that you tricked me and stole your helm back, Dreamlord." Lucifer's voice remains smooth as satin, deadly as poison. "You thought yourself so clever, in summoning hope to beat me? So, how powerful is it really, do you think? Do you actually trust in it yourself, or was that all a clever lie?"

A chill goes down Dream's back, which has nothing to do with the bone-deep cold of hell. (The humans always think it's hot, but they know nothing.) He stands as straight as he can, staring Her in the eye, unflinching. "If it is a contest you intend, name your terms."

"Not a contest in the traditional sense, no." Lucifer paces toward him, Her elegant robe whispering secrets to the black-polished floorstones. "I'll indeed let the human go, and you with him. On only one condition."

"And?"

"You must face the same trial that your son did. Orpheus." Her voice drips with barely concealed relish. "You must walk out of hell, Hob Gadling behind you, without ever looking back to make sure that he is still following. If you can manage it, he will be free to return to the waking world, untroubled by me. But if you look back -- well, doubtless you recall what happened with Eurydice. Truly, you should."

Dream opens his mouth, stands like that for a long moment, then shuts it. He feels as if he's been hit by lightning, as if he can't catch his breath, as if he can hardly stand upright or remember his own name. It is, of course, diabolically perfect on any number of levels, a piece of exquisite artistry worthy of Lucifer's craft, but he has never been so terrified of anything, ever. "I don't -- "

"Yes or no, Dreamlord?" Lucifer's voice has turned even more silken, dripping with self-satisfaction. She could not be enjoying this more if She tried, and indeed, it is fitting. Force him to hope, to trust, to put his money where his mouth is, and prove that last time he beat Her fair and square, or replay the oldest and most irrevocable tragedy that he has ever known, that lost his son and his wife and everything else, because -- it's a sad song, but we sing it anyway -- everyone knows how it went. Giving in to a single moment of weakness, Orpheus looked back to make sure Eurydice was still following him out of the Underworld, and then in that instant, forever, she was gone.

"Hey," Hob says, from the cage. "Oy, Dream. Listen to me. We can do it, all right? We can."

Dream still can't muster up a response, even as the seconds continue to drain by. The longer Hob spends down here, the harder it will be for him to leave; even an immortal human cannot resist Hell's baneful power forever. So Dream lifts his head and stares Lucifer down. "Very well, Morningstar," he breathes in a voice absolutely dripping with snow and steel. "Since it pleases you to set those terms, we accept."

"Very good, Dreamlord." Lucifer beckons with the same languid carelessness, and Mazikeen moves to unlock Hob's cage. He falls out hard, and Dream makes a reflexive move to go to him, but Lucifer shakes Her shining blonde head. "Ah-ah-ah. No bending the rules before we have even begun to play. You cannot touch him, you cannot speak to him, you cannot look from the moment your climb begins, from the instant you cross the threshold of my citadel. Is that clear?"

I will kill you, Dream thinks. I will rend even your angelic bones into dust, burn you as you did at the Fall, throw you to your own demons and bid them feast. What he says is, "Yes."

"I'm all right," Hob says bracingly. For a man born a medieval peasant who has now been plunged bodily into Hell, thus to serve as a pawn in the long-running feud between his immortal lover and the literal bloody Devil, he seems to be handling it rather well. That, of course, is just Hob for you. How perverse that Hob's own fate should hang on whether Dream can feel even a modicum of the hope that Hob himself feels all the time, in the worst of circumstances, the darkest of hours. I must do this, Dream thinks, close to panic. I must not fail.

"Well?" Lucifer asks. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Hob straightens up, wipes the blood off his chin, and gives Dream a long, desperately intense look -- trust me, trust me. "We are."

"Very good." She waves a hand, and the portcullis opens. "Your test begins now, Dreamlord. It ends when you both reach the waking world, or you fail, and Hob returns here, as my prisoner, forever."

"Understood." Dream's voice is ice, but his insides are water. He paces smoothly across the floor and under the gate, and back into the teeth of the scouring, screaming wind. It takes every inch of his self-control and then some not to turn his head, to see if Hob is following him down the narrow, cracked steps, or if he has been blown off to the eager demonic hordes far, far below. One step after another, through the split, sliding rocks, steep and sharp-edged and dangerous. There are a thousand and one perils for a human here, even a deathless one. The demons' roars sound like the susurration of waves on a distant shore, and geysers of smoke and steam jet up through the broken ground. That isn't even to mention the looming prospect of the catacombs, and what Dream already knows will be waiting for Hob in there. At the least, Eleanor and Robyn, the wife and son he lost just as Morpheus lost Calliope and Orpheus. Perhaps more. Hob has had a long life, and a great deal of heartbreak. It might just be Hell's phantasms, poisoned illusions, but those can be very convincing.

The wind is still blowing too hard for Dream to hear any sound of footsteps behind him, and he knows that it will not abate for this very reason. He keeps walking, head held high, even as his nerves are shredded. I must do this, he repeats to himself. I must avenge Orpheus, even as much as I must save Hob. I must. I must.

Dream enters the catacombs, and walks past the cells with the flickering shadows, the whispers, the wails, the weeping. His head aches with the effort to hold it still, to not even turn it the merest suggestion of an inch. Dust and bones and other dark things crunch beneath his feet. Far off, water drips like the tears of a heartbroken lover, and the chill is deep and savage. Fuck, this is impossible for a human to make it through without losing their mind. If he just --

No. No moments of weaknesses, no faltering or failures. Step by step by step by step. If you want to walk out of hell, you're going to have to prove it, before gods and men. His heart is thundering in his ears, his breathing echoes wildly. Step by step by step. It is very, very dark.

On the far side of the catacombs, Dream crosses the plains scattered with wind-bleached bones, his coat whipping against his legs. The slope starts upward, and Dream hunkers down and climbs steadily. Dust stings viciously in his eyes, and for a terrible moment, trying to shield his face, he almost looks back. He can hear a distant, disembodied screaming that probably isn't Hob, but sounds just close enough that he can't discount the possibility entirely. Oh gods. Oh gods, this is torture. Torture beyond torture, worse than anything he ever thought. Orpheus, forgive me. Forgive me.

At last, at the top of the slope, Dream knows that they're close now, they're almost out, he can sense the veil between worlds, and the compulsion to look back is almost overwhelming. It buckles his bones, it rattles his teeth, it twists his chest, it tears at him like skeletal fingers, trying to drag him back down with the dead. Hope, he chants to himself. There is hope in hell, you know there is. It is the very thing that even the Devil Herself cannot overcome. Hope. Hope. Hope.

Up ahead, the veil shimmers. Dream staggers, hands on his knees, desperately careful to not look back even as he does. His mouth tastes like chaff and ash. He is so -- very -- close.

The screaming is louder. It sounds terribly like Hob. Lucifer must have tricked him -- must have sent Squatterbloat or the other legions after them both -- doubt comes in, darkness falls --

Dream of the Endless straightens up and runs for it.

He runs with everything he is, everything he has, arms over his head, eyes closed, so he cannot be tempted even for a moment, but still does not even make the motion. He has no hope, not really. He does not know how. But he has Hob, and Hob is hope, and he asked Dream not to fail him, and Dream cannot, he cannot, he cannot. He feels something shimmer, then part and tear, and all at once --

Warm, humid air hits him, and a scatter of rain, and then the sound of traffic rumbling down the road nearby, and Dream sprawls headlong on very hard concrete. Even for an Endless, it hurts to fall on it, and it hurts even more when something heavy lands directly on top of him. They roll over and over, sending nearby rubbish bins flying. The bins are helpfully emblazoned with LONDON BOROUGH OF CAMDEN -- it's here, they're back, they're in the waking world, and they --

Fuck, is it Hob or is it something much worse? What came out of Hell with him, what is here, what has been unleashed -- if Lucifer broke Her bargain, or tricked Dream more than even he knew-- what if it was just a demon that looked like Hob, and Hob himself is long, long gone --

"Dream," a rough voice is gasping, and dirty hands are clutching at his face, and Dream stares up to see Hob Gadling, in the flesh, grabbing at him desperately. "Dream. Fuck. Fuck."

Dream sits upright, as Hob pulls him, and they clutch hold of each other right there in the alley, shivering and shaking and sobbing so hard that they barely make a sound. Hob's arms wrap around Dream almost twice, and Dream fists handfuls of Hob's filthy shirt, and they kiss once and then again, again, not caring who might see them or about anything else at all. It tastes like salt and smoke and sulfur. "Is it -- " Dream can barely get the words out. "Is it you?"

"Aye, love." The London sky is cloudy, as usual, but Hob Gadling's smile is brighter than the sun, brighter than life. "It's me."

#patchworkgargoyle #ask #dreamling #dreamling ff #AS I SAID #SO RUDE #SO VERY RUDE #(thank you a+ bless)

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