(no subject)

[midgarhorizon]

Characters: Reno, Open et ctra
Setting: Art Gallery, Morgue, Study/Research Hall, Gym, Pool; across several different days, just read the prompts.
Format: Whichever
Summary:
Considering past actions that no longer really affect him. Swimming around in the pool for a break. Responsibility has a habit of changing people, a lot. Getting stuck in the morgue. Running barefoot.
Warnings: Claustrophobia, mild warnings for descriptive horror content, Reno's own personal brand of swearing. Also, a screen cap of post-fall Sector 7.


Thursday, Oct 17th: Floor 22 - Art Gallery

---

Mapping out a detailed floor plan, floor by floor, was a lot more time consuming than Reno wanted to admit. After that fiasco the other day though, he and his sternum didn't really feel much like trying to train physically. Elena had left a nasty bruise and chest pains where she hit him. A few centimeters either way, and a little bit harder, and she could have killed him. He was half convinced she had when it landed. All in all, pain notwithstanding, he was pretty proud of her for that little drama act she had put on for Sephiroth, even if it did wind up with him in the infirmary for hours.

Responsibility was weighing heavy on his shoulders lately. Being the Director, the Chief, whatever you wanted to call it now, was full of the stuff. He was truly beginning to feel it, recruiting the new people and trying to organize what they were doing. His family was growing, and there was no Rusty, no Tseng, and no Rufus to share the burdens. And Elena... Well. Floor mapping was important for the things he had planned. Drills, exercises, and task forces would all need a good understanding of the Tower and the floors it contained. Putting it all down on paper was what he had been doing the past few weeks anyway, walking up and down the Tower. Shion wouldn't need the maps after he memorized them, and he figured the kid probably knew more than anyone, but now that their ranks were growing it was going to be harder keeping everyone on the same page. So the downtime let him get a jump on the work for now. No big deal until he got Elena alone for that disciplinary training session because there is no way he's going to let her off the hook that easy.

He was on Floor 22 right now, and stopped to take a break. It'd been a while since he had been in a museum. Aside from that time he found Elena, showing off for her before the wedding, the last time... when was the last time? Some vague recollection of playing bodyguard for a day while some of the higher ups went gallivanting around Midgar. Paintings weren't really his thing, but the further he went into this floor, the more familiar the images became.

Then the paintings started to change. A wrong turn, and he came face to face with a painting of the Turks. All of them were sitting at the bar Elena had been working in. Even Veld and Tseng had made it down for the group shot, enjoying a quite drink in the corner. It had been when everything made sense. When it was all normal and they still had a home with ShinRa. Before their "betrayal" that had them hunted down like dogs. He recognized the image, it used to be one from his wallet lost long ago, but there was something... different about this. Staring at it, it slowly dawned on him that they were glaring at him.

No. Not glaring. They had no eyes, Their eyes had been plucked out and blood was running down their faces, hands outstretched as if to plead with him to find their eyes and return them. His mouth dropped open and he took a step back, unable to stop looking at them. A kind of slow, mounting horror rose until he finally did turn and cough into his hand. That seemed to break the spell, and he moved away to leave, but he made the mistake of looking up again.

This time, it was a painting of Midgar; the viewpoint from Sector 6, standing at the edge and looking down at a freshly dropped Sector 7. The steam and smoke still rose from the red-hot metal, buildings broken apart where they had toppled over, and bodies littered the streets. He got closer, fascinated in a morbid way, and squinted a little bit to see better. Every little detail was there, painted in perfect detail with almost microscopic brush strokes. Little people hanging at the edge of Sector 6 and more on Sector 8 just visible across the way, looking down at the rubble. The bodies below were just as detailed, blood and limbs and twisted mangled messes.

His work.

Yet, he didn't feel the shame any more. No guilt. Just curiosity of what it might have been like seeing the sky fall on top of you. He did not feel much of anything about it, and that was a far cry from when he had been in the hospital, where his room looked down on the same scene. A little voice inside his head told him he should feel something. Reno of the Turks should feel guilty. He had done this terrible thing to an entire town underneath the city. The city itself. How dare he not feel anything? It wasn't right. His lips parted briefly, wanting to laugh at the voice, but not quite having the courage to do so. The little voice was right, but maybe he's beaten himself up over it once too often to care what he thought of himself.

No, that's wrong. There's still something he felt looking at this painting. The regret was the same. The little voice silenced itself at the realization. The innocents were still innocent. They were just people going about their busy lives, but they would have died anyway. If not him, then the white light that had destroyed everything; that had brought him here. The Tower was a fitting enough punishment for this crime. The regret really was enough. If he hadn't pushed the button, Scarlet would have gassed the three Turks left standing.

Maybe he could have saved all of them, that way.

---

Friday, Oct 18: Floor 7 - Pool

---

It's been a while since he got the chance to swim. Taking it easy for the past couple days wasn't so bad, and once in a while he did really need a break. Reno was floating on his back in the shallower end of the gigantic pool, relaxing a little bit. It sure wasn't the hot springs up above, but it's been way too long since he had a chance to just splash around for a while.

Splashing around... the last time had been when Rusty was here. Reno slapped at the water, rolling himself over so he could see beneath him. The water didn't bother his eyes much, but he wouldn't have minded his goggles just then. It seemed like he kept thinking about Rusty. Wondering what had happened to him. Knowing the poor guy's luck, he was probably wandering around in Boat World, visiting graves of his friends. He had mentioned that, hadn't he? About burying Rude and Tseng. Frustrating, that was what it was. He never could help him. What did it say about Reno if he couldn't even help himself? Lot of good this whole stupid damn thing was. Who was he kidding, thinking he could try to save the Tower and send everyone back home?

They probably would never get back home, at this rate. It was just one failure after another. Except for Sector 7. That had been a pretty spectacular way to fulfill a mission. He'd lost count of the times he had failed- they had failed because of Cloud, not that he held it against the guy or anything at least not much any more. But it did make him want to shove dirty gym socks down people's throats when they started mouthing off back home. Scarlet with a few dozen pairs in that big gab of hers wasn't a bad image.

Enough yapping, Reno. Let's get some waves in. Lifting his head out of the water, he took a deep breath, then dove under the water. His goal was to touch bottom before he ran out of breath, but he wasn't going to hold it against himself if he couldn't.

---

Saturday, Oct 19, Morning: Floor 18 - Study Hall

---

Saturday morning was filled with another disappointing meal of pumpkin, a light jog around the Meadow to clear his head, and then a trip down to the Research Library. An idea had occurred to Reno the other day, something sort of obvious it might have bit him if it hadn't hit him in the head first. This was a library full of all sorts of subjects. He knew his way around pretty well after all that checking through he had done in the first few months of his stay here. There were books that might be able to help him.

Walking through the stacks with purpose, his Raven uniform fitting as well as ever (and damn the thing), until he came to the appropriate section. Blue eyes trailed over the titles from behind the red visor, seeking out one or two in particular. He made a "Heh!" of triumph when he spotted one, pulling it out. It was labelled "Effective Leadership In Military Situations" and probably would be just about right. Sure, he wasn't military, despite the uniform, but good advice was good advice, and there was no way he was going to ask any of these wingnuts here in the Tower. That could get compromising.

Taking the large textbook with him, he headed downstairs to the Study Hall and got comfortable at a desk, leaning back and resting his legs up on the surface. It was a pretty thick book, so he had no illusions he would even get through it before the day, much less before lunch.

At least it was quiet enough.

---

Sunday, Oct 20, Late Afternoon: Floor 26 - Morgue - Closed to one

---

Sitting in the library, Reno was dressed in his one pair of civvies today. The ones he shared with Shion. Black suited him, and he really didn't want to have to explain anything in case someone he didn't want snooping around caught him in his Turk suit. That was for later. This afternoon, he was ignoring that vague feeling he should be doing something about that note he had gotten earlier, and trying to get some more work done before heading up to his meeting with Elena. Reno was trying to create copies of some of the maps he has been making of the floors. It's going fairly well, even if he does have to use a straight edge to clean some of these markings up. Reno was a lot of things, but not an artist, musician, baker or taxidermist. Maps were a little different though; some missions needed maps on the fly and he had learned the skill the same way, not that they were stellar pieces of art. It didn't hurt taking some pride in his work, though, so that's why the second drafts were taking a little bit of time.

Unfortunately, he didn't see the Rupee hiding in the small box of pencils until too late. This particular detail required a pencil with a sharp tip, so he dipped his hand inside only for the damn thing to bite him and vanished. And so did his EMR.

"Shit..." He cussed under his breath, damning Leviathan's scaly hide to tango with Ifrit for a while, and pulled his maps together in a neat pile. Theoretically nobody should touch them while they were sitting looking important on a library table, so he got up and headed to the staircase. He really hated this part. Rupees were a damned annoying nuisance, and every time he encountered one, he was pretty sorry for it.

Stomping up the staircase, he glowered across each floor. Those damn things liked to torment him, placing items in a just out of reach spot, but nothing too hidden. That wouldn't be sporting. This time, he didn't have far to go, reaching the morgue and spotting his EMR resting peacefully on one of the morgue draws.

That just so happened to be fully rolled out and open.

Hm.

Eyes narrowing to just blue pinpricks, he stepped off the staircase, glancing side to side. The hazards on this floor were fairly minimal, but that didn't mean it was impossible to run into something here. The damn place gave him enough chills as it was, just walking by on the staircase. Slowly, he approached the shelf, keeping an eye out for any surprises.

As he reached for the EMR, it rolled back a few feet, as if it had been attached to fishing line. Frowning, Reno stepped a little bit closer, though some instinct told him to hang back. Irritation rose. No damned Rupee or whatever they were called was going to get the best of him. Moving quickly, he grabbed for the EMR.

And then something grabbed him, pulling him on the shelf and inside head first. The shelf rolled back into the refrigerated unit, and the door slammed closed with a final clicking.

Reno froze for half a minute, immersed in darkness and the far too enclosed spacing, shocked at what had just happened. The EMR in his hand started tapping against the brushed steel inside- no, that was his hand shaking. The sound was enough to bring him back to reality just long enough for the screaming to start.

The first scream was blood curdling, torn out of his throat so hard it hurt. "LET ME OUT! GET ME OUT OF HERE!" The shrieks sounded hollow in the tiny confines, too loud too loud-- it was making his ears ring. Panic rose and overrode any survival instinct he still had, his boots slamming into the door with no result except denting the metal. All too soon, his screaming became inarticulate. Hoarse. The minutes dragged on and though he was screaming, SCREAMING at the top of his lungs, his throat felt tight and his lungs burned for oxygen.

Nobody was around, nobody would find him. He was stuck stuck. Trapped, in a cage. Cage. Nobody would come for him or save him, he'd be stuck here forever and starve to death. He was going to die in here.

---

Floor 39


Running - Saturday Afternoon

---

The jog on the meadow earlier had felt good. Really good. Good enough that he returned the book he had been studying and came up to the Gym. Nobody was there for the moment, but he made a sweeping check just in case before sitting down next to the track and removing his boots and gloves. The headgear came off next, stashed neatly next to the other items. It'd been a long time since he ran just for the sake of running, and he was hoping his feet weren't too out of condition for it.

Reno massaged the bottom of both feet for a minute or two before standing up. Oh, right... the belt and the pauldron. Making a face, he dropped those as well. Who the hell came up with the entire one pauldron idea, anyway? It looked stupid.

Feeling a bit more free, he stretched out a bit before walking out on to the track, getting the feel with his feet. They didn't seem too badly off, if he started slowly. For the first half of the track, he walked, slowly building up speed to where he could break into a jog at the mark. Another half of the track, and he bolted. Feet pounded into the floor, the smooth track cool against them, the shock vibrating up through his arches. He started grinning, feeling the wind in his hair. It felt good to let everything out. This had always been what he most wanted to do. Just to run.

---

Elena - Sunday Night - Closed

---

Reno adjusted the cuff of his suit, straightening it and the entire arm out so it wouldn't wrinkle up. After that... incident earlier, he almost wanted to call it off, but being a Turk took precedence. The change of clothes was quick, though this time he took the extra effort of prying the tie that went with this particular suit out of the hidden inside pocket and wore it. He might have also tucked in his shirt and zipped up the blazer, but who was paying attention? He wasn't, and when it dawned on him he had done it almost automatically, he shook his head. Well, the chief had always wanted him to wear the damn thing properly. Might as well start doing it now. Reno was the chief now... he had to set examples.

When did he start caring about examples?

Trying very hard not to let it get to him, he sat down on one of the weight stations and waited for Elena to show. She would, of course. There was no doubt in his mind she would ignore a summons like that, not when he went the extra effort to make it sound all professional.

---

Shion and Diarmuid - Monday - 0900 - Closed (forward dated a bit)

---

This was the meeting place they had specified. Reno had dragged Shion down to the gym this morning. To say it didn't chafe a bit that he had to even turn Shion over to someone else for a while would be a lie, and it did chafe. Shion's welfare was more important than Reno's ego, however, and he couldn't justify making the kid try things they had already tried before. It was time for outside resources, something he didn't have as easy access to in the Tower.

Reno was leaning against the wall in his Raven uniform, arms folded and glancing over at the kid every so often. The visor was down, so whatever he was thinking about wasn't immediately apparent.

---

Catchall for Candy Paranoia - Week of the 20th - 26th

---

The intensifying, nagging feelings that had plagued him all that first day only got harder to ignore, but in some ragged depths Reno held on. He was determined not to play Ruana's stupid game. He went about in practically only his Raven uniform, hiding his face from even those closest to him.

You may be able to encounter him in the common areas, or hiding out in one of the outdoors or the Upper Tower.

This prompt has increasing warnings of high paranoia, fear, and potential violence the later into the week.

---

Comments

Morgue get!

[bashfulshifter]

[The first day of candy-gathering was well underway, and Rick was suitably distracted in the hunt. What Ruana could possibly have planned with this little trick was enough to drive him on his search with little regard for his usual tasks--which would explain why he's so late coming in to clean the morgue. Typically he would've been here hours ago.]

[As he does finally enter and hear the hoarse yelling from somewhere along the wall of cold lockers, Rick realizes how dangerous a mistake this has been.]

[He runs along the edge, keeping his ear and hands pressed on the sides to try and pinpoint which locker has this poor person trapped within, but he can only narrow it down to a large block on the wall. Rick changes tactics and starts frantically throwing lockers open, hopefully until he finds one with someone living in it.]

--H-H-Hold on! I'm--t-t-trying--

[It's doubtful that Reno is in any mental state to comprehend Rick's stammered reassurances, but it makes Rick feel better, at least.]

[...Come on, gotta be one of these...]

[midgarhorizon]

[The pounding and screaming is enough to cover everything Patrick was saying. Reno's too far gone to calm himself down, and he couldn't even remember what to do, in any case. His feet keeps kicking at the door, pulling one leg back for a powerful kick, only for the door to open at the last second and the momentum of it slides the table out a little.

It's enough to surprise him out of it. The door is open! Frantically, he pushes himself out, dropping to the ground. His eyes are wide and breathe heavy and erratic.

Going to take a moment here just to recover...]

[bashfulshifter]

[Rick gives his own yelp of surprise as Reno's foot comes sailing past him in a violent kick. It's a little odd that, for as desperately as he was looking for signs of life in these lockers, having found someone moving around in there still manages to startle him out of his wits. He staggers and falls sitting at roughly the same time the morgue's victim does, hyperventilating with adrenaline and panic.]

[He, too, takes a moment to regain his bearings. The beginnings of words form but get stuck in his throat, stopping and starting, stammering his way into comprehensible speech.]

...A-A-Ah...A-Are you...o-okay?

sunday, library

[rebelprince]

Reno might not like what he sees upon getting back to the library, though. A pile of maps with nobody around? Zuko hadn't marked on any of them but he was definitely looking the lot over, even taking small notes on his own paper. Chairs were still weird so instead he was standing bent over the table, leafing through the maps almost idly. His plastic candy bowl was sitting on the edge of the table, already with a piece or two inside.

Golly, it sure was convenient that someone had this set up.

[midgarhorizon]

Once Reno had climbed out of the rafters and back to (somewhat) normal, he returned to gather his maps, only to find-

"Hey!" The protest was sharp, and he stomped over, still feeling the effects of adrenaline. Maybe if he hadn't had such a scare, he wouldn't be so angry, but after that, this seemed like the icing on the cake. "What d'ya think you're doing with my maps?"

[rebelprince]

Zuko jumped at the sound, almost instinctively whipping his swords out and whirling to face... well, maybe not an attacker, but he looked very angry. Enough that Zuko didn't let his guard drop entirely, even though he did step back and out of the way. He wasn't looking for a fight.

"Did you make these?"

[Floor 39 | Closed]

[provenworth]

[It was rather...interesting, the influx of mail that had come through over the last few days. A entertaining poem, a very meaningful letter, instructions for a meeting she was sure was a result of their first encounter while in character, and then mushrooms. She hated mushrooms, but wasn't about to return the gift. She'd get with Shion - maybe he could find a way to cook them without it tasting horribly.

The seriousness of the summons to report at the gymnasium was a little unexpected, earning extra attention. She'd not heard or read anything of such...professionalism from him. He who was normally laid back, whose authority had its own ring to it. This was decidedly very Director sounding. Perhaps he was taking the role to heart.'

At the appointed time she's strolling into the gym, stopping at the doorway to check if she was being followed before continuing in.]

I got your message. I guess this about what happened between you - [Well hello you amazing vision you. Words trail off when she catches sight of him sitting at a station, dressed in the proper Turk uniform she missed so dearly. Its the fact that the suit is being worn correctly that earns a lift of eyebrows and a slight dropping of the jaw. She at least manages to maintain her stride, but she's got a bit of a sultry smirk forming.] - are wearing the suit correctly for once.

[midgarhorizon]

I did it earlier this year, too, y'know. [His voice was level, but hoarse and rough, like he had screamed for a few hours, and definitely a bit strained. Reno still hadn't gotten over the incident in the morgue, and that feeling that had followed him from the moment he read the message from Ruana didn't help at all.]

But you're right. I owe ya a lot of bruises for that one. [Shifting his weight, he stood up without much effort.] Any harder and it wouldn't have been the infirmary.

[The implication there was she needed to pull her punches a bit if they were going to play those roles on the outside.]

Tonight, I'm going to teach you those moves I showed you.

[provenworth]

....Well, yeah. But that was a special circumstance. [Eyes narrow instantly, sweeping his figure several times. The man sounded horrible and she's instantly wondering if she needed to find somebody to create a monitoring device that she could slip on him so she could maintain surveillance on him, even when they weren't on the same floor.] You sound like hell, Reno, and I doubt it was from our little altercation.

[There's a flashing look of apologetic guilt, a hand lifting to lightly rub at the back of her neck. After she had stormed off from the cafeteria, leaving a wounded Raven!Reno behind as she stalked off muttering a string of curses that might have made Cid blush, it finally occurred to her the amount of damage that she had unintentionally caused. But she couldn't return to check on him, not with Sephiroth so close.]

Yeah, sorry about that. I kinda got swept up in the moment.

[Both attitude and ears perk up, hands coming together in front of her in an enthusiastic clap. Training and something new to learn. That was something she could get behind.] Really?! C'mon, lets get started! I'll take all the bruises you can give me!

Saturday, Oct 19, Morning: Floor 18 - Study Hall

[neverbeamemory]

Quiet indeed, the thick silence of the study room was exactly as it should be on a Saturday morning.

Sephiroth had chosen this morning to do a little studying of his own, in particular into some advanced theoretical sciences. The thick tome of which rested open on his own, separate table - pen scribbling away intermittently at his own notes to the one side of the arrangement. His left arm and hand curled over and down across the page, armed with a pen as solidly as he could handle a sword. He paused and ran eyes once more over the paragraph again, and then looked up from the book -

That Raven, again. He caught the boots striking the tabletop from across the open space between the tables. First impression dictated that the could-be Turk was following him but then logic caught up to correct that first reaction - if he was being watched, then surely it wouldn't be in such plain sight. Reno wouldn't be that foolish - unless the 'Raven' really were a disguise.

Whatever.

Sephiroth dismissed that thought and peered down again at his study book - though his stiffened his jaw minutely as he tried to find exactly where his train of thoughts, for the note-taking, had been in the moment before. He placed pen down next to his notes and in a movement of silver and leather -his usual attire, this time- Sephiroth lifted the thick text in both hands and sat back in his chair, smoothly leafing one page back at a time. He'd just have to re-read the whole of that section again.

Lets just hope the clumsy uniformed individual wasn't leaning too far back on his chair, Sephiroth had half a mind to tip the chair back with a quick flick of his power - but he's much too mature for such a prank.

[midgarhorizon]

Reno was pretty oblivious to the fact Sephiroth was in the room this time, mostly because he had been hidden from Reno's view point for most of his trek across the floor. If he stared at him hard enough, he might've started to get edgy. As it was, the "Raven" kept flipping pages in the book, trying to settle down into it.

Damn, this was pretty boring.

After a few minutes, Reno issued a sigh and set his feet back on the ground, setting the book on the table. Maybe he'd just take some notes of important bits and keep them around, so he could memorize them.

Getting up, he looked around for some paper and pencils to do this with, because in his haste to wake up earlier, he'd forgotten.

That was when he spotted the familiar silver hair and froze.

[neverbeamemory]

There was movement just out of Sephiroth's viewpoint and he froze his gaze on that one line of text he had just gotten to. Weighing up, in the meantime, whether or not he should look up and engage the Raven again. After all, he had no reason, nor anything at the forefront of his mind to say to the could-be Turk.

Carefully, after said pause, Sephiroth folded over the page that he was reading from so that he could find it again later, closed the book and set it slowly back on the table. Then, and only then, he raised his view - picking out the details again of the uniform as if this time he might have been able to place it. The leather clad man would try perhaps to glean some more information that might help to trigger his memory.

"Looking for something?"

Late like a late thing

[savedbyasong]

Shion was standing nearby going through a complicated fighting move which, though you couldn't tell on thin air, involved pressure points.

He was a little distracted from the new game of Ruana's. Especially since that morning the glamour had glitched, and yet the candy still looked like candy in the bowl. He was also worried about this training and what it would contain, and those combined had pretty much guaranteed him messing the move up every time he tried. He was growing more and more frustrated about it.

*huggles* Don't worry about it!

[oathshackledbird]

Diarmuid arrives at the gym shortly before the agreed time. He's actually glad to see them both there since he's been hearing about strange things involving candy, compulsions, and magically appearing bowls. Considering Ruana is in charge now and her last Halloween game had involved collecting candy, the rumors do not bode well for those involved.

So far, that doesn't include Diarmuid. Aside from noticing a strange bowl on Ryoji's bed stand, he has seen none of the candy others have been mentioning. Whether that is good or bad he doesn't know.

For now, though, he pushes those thoughts aside and focuses on Shion who is already hard at work. Diarmuid nods to Reno, before approaching Shion and putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Stop. Frustration will only increase the number of mistakes you make. Sometimes, in order to learn you have to leave something alone for a while. Shall we try a different lesson?"

[midgarhorizon]

The feeling of needing to collect that damn candy was wearing on Reno, and his mood wasn't in the best of places to begin with, considering that he was turning over Shion to someone else. His trainee. His son. It was grating.

Hadn't Reno told Shion to relax how many times when he got frustrated? It was taking someone else to do that.

Still, he doesn't move from his spot, watching the two from behind the red visor, but he does speak up. "Show him the double kick move I taught ya last week, Shion."

friday the 18th let's get our swim on

[terra_nullius]

Swimming was increasingly a thing, as he felt strangely at home in the water. Even with the odd naggling feelings that he couldn't place flitting about his head. No, he was content to do it, it was a good workout and kept him occupied for an hour or so.

That was really it, wasn't it? Trying to find ways to stave off the odd, unnatural feeling of being trapped. Perhaps it wasn't unnatural, but it felt like it was coming from inside of him, inside that big black space that was the void of his memories. Keeping himself busy, keeping himself amused... it was really more of a matter of stringing together menial tasks interspersed with deaths or running into people.

Which seemed to be likely. Towel around his neck and swimsuit donned, he'd stepped out to get ready to jump in the pool but there was already someone there. He waved, letting the person know he was there, before putting down towel and a bottle of water and diving in himself, surfacing and stroking a bit closer to this new person.

"Come here often?" he asked, a bit lamely. What else was one to say in this sort of situation.

[midgarhorizon]

Reno's head popped up above the water, shaking the droplets out of his eyes just before the question. It took him a second to see the figure coming closer, rubbing eyes free. "Oh, uh, not really. Not as much as I'd like to." The unexpected encounter left Reno feeling a little exposed without his EMR nearby, but the guy didn't look like a threat... but a lot of people didn't in this place.

This was a face he hadn't seen around before, at least not that he remembered. Reno flopped back on the water and started floating. "Haven't seen you around before. You new?"

Oct 19, Floor 18

[thelordsage]

Sephiran tended to devour the books he found in the library. While the lounges were most often his typical reading place, he would occasionally go to the study hall if there were too many people. He spotted Reno going through his particularly thick book, and his curiosity was piqued. "Might I ask what you're reading?"

[midgarhorizon]

The "Raven" looked up, eyebrows almost meeting in the middle, though that wasn't apparent with the visor. Already he was getting interrupted, but hey, maybe it would lessen the headache he was getting.

"Uh, 'Military Leadership.' Or somethin' like that. You need something?"

Thursday, Oct 17th: Floor 22 - Art Gallery (Sorry for the TLDR. He wouldn't shurt up! *sobs*)

[oathshackledbird]

(OOC: Warnings for violence and mentions of forced suicide.)


Diarmuid knows he shouldn't be lingering on this floor, let alone allowing himself to be drawn farther into it. He knows what is waiting in the depths of the gallery. Its tricks, he has seen before. However, despite knowing this, Diarmuid still doesn't stop himself from wandering onto the floor and gazing at a picture near the entry. It's a simple landscape that looks surprisingly like home.

Home... Normally, when Diarmuid wants to think of home, he goes to floor 100 and sits in the image of his homestead. That image is pure and untainted by tricks. There he can think, plan, and sometimes even heal.

Floor 22 is not the same. He tells himself, of course, that he will only look at one picture, check a bit farther into the gallery to make sure no one else is wandering the floor just asking for an unpleasant surprise. The truth is, deep down, he only comes here when his memories take a dark edge, when his failures weight on him so hard he feels like he's being crushed to ash. Like now, after losing so many of those close to him...

After failing so many of his children.

To others, Diarmuid seems to be coping well, and most of the time he is. Just not right at the moment. Especially not after having run into Sephiroth in the library not long ago. When his mind is like this, he unconsciously seeks the horrid images he knows he will eventually find as some kind of passive-aggressive punishment against himself, punishment no one can blame him for when he doesn't recognize it as what it is himself.

Right?

Another picture catches his eye and he moves in farther. This one is a replica of one he swears he has seen somewhere. A boar hunt. Man and animal locked into an age old battle for survival.

Just a little farther in another familiar image sits. The hill of Beinn Gulbain. The place where he had died the first time. And it is his death scene. Even so, Diarmuid hardly seems phased. After all, once you have lived it, the image isn't the same somehow.

Or maybe the image just isn't the same period, for as he looks closer Diarmuid's eyes pick out details he knows are false. Most obviously, the image of his friend Oscar standing over Fionn's decapitated body.

His best friend an oath-breaker over failures that weren't his. His best friend a kinslayer over something that was always meant to be.

A hiss slips from Diarmuid's mouth, and he turns violently away from the picture. However, he finds no escape as his eyes fall on another picture. This one an open floor in an all too familiar Tower. A smirking silver haired man.

And a beloved figure throwing himself off that ledge...again.

"No..." For a moment, Diarmuid's hands twist into his hair, before he strikes out at the picture knocking it from its stand. When he speaks again, while it might not be loud, there is so much venom and hate in the word that even someone not paying attention would find themselves having a hard time not hearing it.

"Sephiroth!"

[midgarhorizon]

That name. That name was always enough to catch Reno's attention, no matter what he might be doing. So many personal feelings were mixed up with that name, on top of the ones all associated with the destruction of the seat of civilization as they knew it. The feelings he had as Meteor struck; the ones when they had been 'friendly' here in the Tower; and most of all the ones lately, where no matter how he tried not to think of it, he kept drifting back to what Elena had told him in February. Not even married a month.

That was a familiar face standing there, someone who, if not entirely trusted, was at least not a threat. Reno turned away from the painting and took a few steps toward the man. Sector 7's remains hung just over Reno's shoulder, as if advertising his sins.

"Diamurid?" The hate and venom had surprised Reno, though. He hadn't known anyone else in the Tower aside from the Gaians that could spit that name with such emotional force. "What happened?"

Diarmuid looked like he could kill something, and Reno wasn't sure if he felt up to trying to comfort the guy or ease him off the back of the chocobo. If anything, he felt like a good spar himself, though he didn't think rolled up maps would really work as a weapon.

"If Sephiroth's causin' trouble, you'd better tell me."

GALLERY

[historyrabbit]

[The art gallery wasn't Lavi's cup of tea, then again, most of the floors belonging to the Tower weren't his cup of tea. The classics he could admire, finally get to see the ones that he had learned about in his studies. But the ones of familiar faces and places, turning into nightmarish scenes...

No, he could do without that.

He would rather stand on that floor with all the screaming and blood-trails than have those twisted images forever in his memories.

He almost gladly accepts the strange redhead's painting until it too turns into something he would see at home.

War.

And the poor sods who were unlucky enough to be her casualties. The world itself looks more modern than his own but less than the Tower's almost, but it saddens him. No matter what time, the destruction all still looks the same.

He stands a few paces behind Reno and to the left, for a few moments a look of sadness is on his face. Then disgust. Then it's carefully schooled into a blank mask. A mask with no cracks.

This is a teenager who has looked death in the face for the majority of his life and done nothing. Nothing but watched.]

Did this actually happen?

[midgarhorizon]

Yeah.

[Reno's voice is low, unsurprised. He heard the footsteps coming up behind him, and decided whatever it was, he didn't really want to get up in arms over it.]

I should know. I'm the one that blew it up.

[No remorse, no guilt. Just the simple fact, stated.]

The screams were the worst. You could hear them for leagues.

Backdated by now - Floor 22

[seventhsong]

Reno has a shadow.

One that isn't bothering with stealth, that much is absolutely certain. Although unobtrusive, there were some lessons the Tower taught quickly, and sneaking up on someone being swiftly painful was one of them. So nothing like stealth, or sneaking, or furtiveness. Someone doesn't want to get shot or something.

It's a nice museum. The paintings are very atmospheric.

... Including the eyeless ones. Not exactly a pleasant atmosphere, but still..

Lorelei hadn't really meant to follow Reno through the gallery the Tower had made, it just sort of happened. He'd been on his way to his most favorite floor ever and happened to spot red hair and then simply followed it. Realizing Reno wasn't one of those redheads was a fairly swift revelation, but he had yet ... to go do something else.

But the paintings were diverting. What was their story? The glowering people in suits. The bloody, eyeless sufferers. A broken ... platform? No.

As Reno faces his fears in each stark painting, his crimson, black and white shadow studies them with detached interest. They meant... nothing to him, save that perhaps once a lot of people got hurt, or maybe someone just painted a lot of people getting hurt. Someone, maybe, had a lot of really serious issues.

Eventually there isn't anywhere else to follow the Turk to, when the final painting Reno stops at doesn't seem to have counterparts.

"...Do you know these people, these places?"

Lorelei's question is quiet. He doesn't have to be loud at first. There's immediate audible similarity to both Asch and Luke, but still there's something different too. Same with appearance. And Reno.. well, Reno didn't look like anyone at all Lorelei knew, especially with the warpaint. Didn't that fall out of fashion hundreds of years ago?

[midgarhorizon]

Tilting his head, Reno frowned at the question. "Asch?" He had wondered who had been following him, and he turned around only to realize that hadn't been quite right. Whoever this newcomer was, he bore as about much resemblance to the redheads he knew as Axel did him. And that was a bit trippy for him.

The one thing he did notice is that there were an awful lot of people with red hair that resembled each other. That couldn't be a coincidence.

"Yeah, I did, but who are you?" The question's fairly innocent, if a bit guarded.