towerofanimus | 001

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001 | Open

Characters: Rod and ???
Setting: Room 04-14, Dormitory Floor 4 hallway
Format: Prose!
Summary: Rod wakes up in some weird fetish scene that he definitely didn't sign up for.
Warnings: Rod's foul mouth

It was, however, the first time that Rod had woken up in an unfamiliar place, completely incapacitated and more than a little disoriented and clad in what was possibly the most uncomfortable outfit ever, complete with some kind of freaky BDSM collar.

…seriously, what everloving the hell?

After grappling with the collar around his neck for several minutes in a vain attempt to get the fucking thing off already, Rod swore colorfully and heaved himself up off of the bed to further examine his surroundings. Whoever had set all this up was clearly one very sick individual, judging by the wannabe horror flick notes he’d found on the bedside table and the fact that he was wearing a fucking skin-tight cat suit and a god damn collar.

Yeah, okay, can we just take a second to revisit the collar? Rod was a pretty firm believer in ‘whatever floats your boat’ – hell, just about everyone was into something a little weird if you dug deep enough – but this kind of get-up was going way beyond the realm of anything that he would even remotely feel comfortable with.

He must really have pissed someone off good this time.

Thankfully, whoever he’d managed to piss off had been thoughtful enough to pack him a freaking chest of necessities, so it wasn’t long before he was stuffing the strange white outfit into the chest and donning his much more comfortable black suit. It was true that he didn’t really need to wear the uniform anymore, since technically the Turks of his era had disbanded, but he’d found that things tended to run a little more smoothly when he was wearing a suit; suits meant business and potential negotiations, whereas dressing like a punkass generally guaranteed he'd be duking it out with his fists, whether he wanted to or not. Whoever he ran into was just going to have to suck it up and deal with the fact that he was wearing combat boots, though, and he hadn’t even bothered to check if his tie had been packed in with his personal effects.

Wallet, gloves, and one thunder-equipped EMR later, he was ready to get his reconnaissance on, oldschool Turk-style. Cautiously, he poked his head outside the room, hoping against all odds that he’d recognize wherever it was he’d been taken captive and be able to get out without too much trouble.

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See, this was exactly why letting Rod think too much was a dangerous thing – at least so far as his personal wellbeing was concerned. With everything going on, Rod’s head was swimming with thoughts and questions and a whole lot of what the fuck, so much so that he’d simply been standing there in the hall zoning out, his weapon hanging uselessly at his side.

Needless to say, by the time the approaching footsteps registered in his mind, it was too late. Rod practically jumped out of his skin when someone grabbed him from behind, letting loose a string of swear words not unlike the first time Reno had snuck up on him. In fact - sadly - this could have been exactly the same Rod as that time all those years ago. His body went rigid when he felt cold metal pressed against his head, but when his attacker spoke, Rod's eyes narrowed and he sent a well-aimed elbow towards Reno’s gut. Luckily, Reno chose that moment to drop the act and let him go.

“Weren’t you always tellin’ me not to sneak up on a Turk?” he growled, whirling around and glaring at Reno. As pissed as he wanted to be, though, that grin was infectious; Rod found himself mirroring the expression, a note of fondness seeping into his voice. “Fuckin’ a, man, you scared the shit outta me!”

"Yeah, but where was that other rule, something about 'use anything you can to your advantage?'" Reno clapped Rod on the shoulder, still grinning. He actually looked happy to see him. There were just a few differences in Reno's appearance, mainly the length of his hair and the orange collar he wore. "And what'd I tell ya about your dirty mouth, rookie?"

The implications of seeing Rod here meant that another Gaia-universe had died, but telling Rod had him torn up inside. Sure, Siira could handle it, probably even Elena, but Rod? He'd probably fly off the handle and try to tear the Tower apart.

Reno figured it best to hold off for now, get Rod used to the idea he was here first.

And yep, now that he thought about it, Gamzee sort of reminded him of Rod.

"Still copying me, huh?" The older turk reached out and tapped Rod's EMR with his own.

“Sorry, princess, did I shock your virgin sensitivities? You gonna cry now?”

Apparently, some things would never change. Rod fell back into the old sarcasm easily, and only half because he was desperately grasping at anything that was familiar right now. Siira had said there were two Renos here, right? Well hell, bring 'em on, because he’d let the both of them give him a verbal ass-whopping straight into next week if it meant he could safely ignore the rest of the shit going down in this fucking nightmare tower. The worst part was, Rod hadn’t even been here a full day yet; he didn’t even want to imagine what other nasty surprises the place had in store for him, that was for damn sure.

“Fuck you, yo, you know it’s my name sake.” What else would Diego Rodney carry if not for a freaking rod? Honestly, it was like Reno needed Rod to hold his hand through the simplest logic. “By the way, those fruity hair bands from twenty years ago called – they want their hairstyle back.”

"That's 'sensibilities', Dirtface." Reno's grin faded somewhat, and he folded his arms, trying to look intimidating. "So what time did they snag you from? Just after ya made Turk?"

The last time he had seen Rod (not counting the time they met up in Meteor) his old habits had kinda smoothed over. He wouldn't be surprised if the kid was from six years ago. But that didn't explain why he looked older than that.

"There's some things you got to know about this place, and I don't feel like sitting down and yappin' at ya if you aren't gonna listen or believe me."

"Ugh, whatever!" Rod rolled his eyes and made a face. Apparently, even though Rod was twenty-five, Reno could still bring out the young punk with an attitude problem. "And I ain't been a Turk for a while now - not officially, anyway. Been gettin' my lurk on mostly down below the plate, while the rest of the planet freaks out about that big, glowing rock in the sky."

He cracked a grin, some of the standoffish attitude leaving him. "Guess you could say I been takin' advantage of the chaos - like you taught me, right? Rufus is dead, ShinRa's fallin' apart, Midgar's goin' down the shithole, and what with the world comin' to an end or whatever, ain't no one payin' attention to gutter scum like yours truly."

You'd be proud, he didn't add, because he wasn't exactly sure if that was true. Oh, he'd taken advantage of the opportunities at his disposal, all right, but he had no idea how Reno would react if he knew the kind of business Rod had been running.

"So yeah," he continued, his expression growing sombre. "Can't promise I'll believe you, 'cause I can't really wrap my head around any of this mess right now, but I'm thinkin' I'd rather stick with someone who knows the ropes around here than try to figure it all out myself, so you can bet I'll fuckin' listen."

So they were from around the same point in time. Reno was only a few days after Meteor fell, but it sounded like Rod was a little bit ahead. But those comments set off a flag in his head. Reno knew Rod pretty well, it made sense he'd probably fall back to old habits.

"I didn't teach ya to get caught up in the underbelly again, slick. It's not like ya couldn't put any of your other skills to use, could it?" Shaking his head slightly, he started heading off to the staircase, fully expecting Rod to follow. "Damn it, Rod, I need fully functioning Turks here."

Rod just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like you ain't involved in any shifty business anywhere. Look, I got connections and I'm usin' 'em; havin' a whole network down under can only come in handy if I ever go back on the record as a Turk, get it?"

He shoves his free hand into his pocket, following Reno towards the stairs automatically, if a bit sullenly. "Trust me, I'm functioning just fine, so don't you worry 'bout me none, just tell me what the fuck's goin' on."

Inwardly, he cringed. Trust Rod to psychically know Reno was involved in something. Granted, it was for keeping eyes on the less savory crowd and foster 'peace' or something in the Tower, but it was still pretty unsavory.

"That ain't about me. Anyway, this place is kinda a safe haven for people, if you can call it that." He was walking down the staircase now, taking each step one at a time and slowly, which was a bit unusual in that this was Reno, and he generally rushed everywhere- or did. Life in the Tower taught him caution on the steps. "It's kinda outside space and time, or at least I'm guessin' that's what it is otherwise this place'd be impossible. You got your collars, and supposedly they keep us nice and healthy while we're here. I'm ready to believe it, I saw what happened when one kid got his off, kinda messy if ya ask me."

There was more, but he didn't want to break Rod with the fact the Planet was pretty much a floating hunk of rock and not much on it. Not that he was a big believer in Jason, but if Reno couldn't trust his own senses there sure nothing he could trust.

To his credit, Rod actually seemed to be listening intently to what Reno was saying. This was no easy feat for someone as typically antsy as Rod, but the way his brows drew together and the look of seriousness on his face betrayed the fact that the cogs were turning inside his head. Not that they were producing much at the moment beyond huh buh wha?, but it was something, at least.

After a few moments pause, Rod hesitantly asked, "What happened when he took the collar off?"

He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know or not, but the collar was still bothering him. That, and it was just about the only piece of information Reno had relayed that he could actually deal with right now. Focus on the individual details, contemplate the big picture later; if he tried to take it all in at once, he'd freak the fuck out.

Reno didn't answer at first. Only went down a floor or two, stepping out on a large floor that looked like a lounge- Floor 38. Finding a comfortable sofa, he flopped down on it and motioned for Rod to do the same. It was easier talking down here than standing in the dorms. It was only then that he decided to answer the question.

"The collar fell off and the liquid, stuff, whatever it is in the collars started bleedin' out of the kid. Then sirens went off and the kid died. So don't go messing with it. If ya do, don't say I didn't warn you."

The tiredness Reno was feeling lately started showing through, and he rubbed his face. "Rod, this place is gonna test you to the extreme."

As he followed Reno into the lounge, Rod's gaze roamed the room with unveiled curiosity. He seemed a bit perplexed by what he was seeing - what was the point of offering them comfort like this when they were being held captive? - but he chose not to say anything for the time being. Might as well accept the small luxuries that would make this shitshow at least a little more bearable.

Although he'd been planning to explore the room a bit more while he listened, he sat down heavily on the couch once Reno actually started speaking. Blue eyes having gone as big and round as saucers, for a moment Rod couldn't even begin to answer. Oh, he had a couple things to say about what he was hearing, all right, but even as the words rose in his throat like bile, they stuck there, leaving him completely speechless. Finally, after the excruciating silence ticked on around them for several seconds, Rod swallowed thickly and managed to focus on Reno once again.

"You're tellin' me this shit's actually goin' inside of us?"

If the collar had felt snug before, it now felt like a vice grip around his windpipe.

He shook his head hard, as if that would make him forget what he'd just heard, bowing his head and running his fingers through his hair in agitation. It was clear now that Rod had been making a valiant effort to keep his cool, but after everything he'd learned - which wasn't even all that much, considering - his capacity for seriously messed up shit was reaching critical levels.

"Fuck!"

The younger Turk launched himself up off the couch, pacing across the room before whirling around and leveling a look at Reno that pleaded with him, Please, for the love of all the fucking summons out there, tell me you're joking.

"What, so if I fuckin' cut myself open am I gonna bleed nasty orange junk too?!"

"No, you just bleed like normal." Reno seemed far too calm for this, compared to Rod's rising agitation, but then that was one of the things that had set them apart before. The older turk tended to keep his cool in bad situations, even way back when.

"Sit down, I'm not done. You keep going on like that, I'm gonna stop wondering why Tseng chose me for Second."

He shot a glare at Reno, but the senior Turk's eerie calm seemed to settle Rod down at least a little. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out roughly before moving back and collapsing on the couch once again, one hand thrown over his eyes.

"Yeah. Fine. Keep goin'. This is all just so fucked up."

Rod's pose made him snicker a bit, "Stop being so dramatic, slick. Give it a month, it'll all start seeming like routine. Got to say, right now is pretty much the worse the Tower's been since I got here." And he had a few theories about that, but he wasn't going to get into that whole thing just yet.

"By the way, you can't die here."

"Wow, I'm so reassured," he muttered sarcastically, rubbing his face with his hands and starting to feel about as tired as Reno looked. Gods, he didn't even want to think about how he'd feel or what he'd look like after being here as long as Reno had. He had to face the very real possibility that he was in this for the long haul, though; if someone as good Reno couldn't even escape, then someone like him didn't have half a chance of getting out of here. Maybe with all the Turks on board, though...

"How's that?" he asked, peering resignedly at Reno. "I dunno if I should be relieved or even more fuckin' freaked out now."

"Can't answer that, but I wouldn't go freakin' out just yet. It could get ya in a lot of trouble here." That was one of the rules back home, too, but Reno gazed at Rod with a slightly worried note. If he hadn't been following with Turk standards lately, Reno wasn't sure what to expect from Rod anymore.

"Seems to me we need to stick to the ideals just to survive in this place, slick."

Taking in another slow, steadying breath, Rod seemed to mull over Reno’s words for a moment. Though his expression was unreadable aside from the tightness of his jaw betraying the overall stressful nature of the situation at large, he at least seemed significantly more put together now.

Seeming to come to some sort of decision in his mind, Rod nodded, looking up at Reno with a renewed determination. "Right. You’re right."

Rod wasn’t anywhere near okay with this; he didn’t know how long it would take him to get used to what was happening, or if he would ever be able to get used to it at all, but he did know that, right now, he had to push the terrifying thoughts away. Right now, he had to rely on himself – on his instincts and his training, neither of which had ever failed him before. He was a god damn Turk, so it was time to show whoever had put them all here right were to shove it. Plus, he had a whole team of people he trusted by his side; what more could he ask for? He had the best of the best.

"So, what’s the plan?" Reno seemed to know what was up, which was all the better for Rod. If Reno had some kind of plan of action and could give him some direction - something to focus on - then Rod could funnel all that erratic energy into his goal instead of flying off the handle.

"Plan?" Reno seemed rather incredulous at the question, giving Rod his bed 'are you fucking with me' face. "The plan is to survive, and tell the Tower people to shove a couple of large materia balls up their ass."

Sighing, he rubbed his forehead, feeling an all too familiar headache coming on. "Preferably with sanity intact, but not holding out for that one. Ya want something to do? I'm gonna start organizing you guys into task forces."

Rod gave him a wry grin. "Sounds about right." Survive and stay sane. He could do that. Totally.

"You got specific tasks in mind or you want us just patrollin' and keepin' people outta trouble?"

Just staring at him a moment, Reno wondered if Rod had any idea of the kinds of things that were in store.

"I haven't decided yet. I need to get you guys all together and have a meeting. Rusty is... that's the other me... he's got the director pin and more experience surviving in this kinda place than I do, so he's kinda acting in that capacity."

To say that Rod had absolutely no idea the kinds of things he was in store for was putting it mildly; Rod was so far out of his element as a newcomer to the tower that he was practically on another planet. Hell, his mind was still focused on another planet: his planet, which was apparently dead and gone now.

It was a depressing, nauseating thought.

Though he was doing his best to put on a brave face, the corners of Rod’s mouth tugged down ever so slightly and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help, but he was so blindsided by everything that he just didn’t know how. He wanted to take command, to stand tall and lead people through as someone who was strong and sure of himself. As disoriented as he currently was, though, he could barely even think of where to start, and he hated how useless he felt.

“Gettin’ everyone together would be good, yeah,” he said finally. “We gotta be coordinated in this, plus I gotta meet this other you.” He grinned again. “Still callin’ bullshit on that ’til I see the guy for myself, yo. I know you gotta be jerkin' my chain.”

If Reno had truly been pulling Rod's chain, he probably would have started laughing and admitted it, ruffling Rod's hair in the process. But he didn't, just gazed at Rod with that slightly impassive expression.

"He's the next best thing to Veld and Tseng we got, slick."

And probably the one that'd see them survive the Tower. It was weird, seeing what he was capable of in the right situation. In a way, it was helping him deal with these things, making an effort to do the right thing, but he was wondering what it got him, sometimes. Rusty never seemed to have fun, as far as he had seen.

"I got no time to be making jokes anymore. Maybe next month."

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001 | Open

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The word he actually wants is "sensibilities."

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