towerofanimus | A bridge can still be built, while the bitter waters are flowing beneath...

Entry tags:

A bridge can still be built, while the bitter waters are flowing beneath...

Characters: Diarmuid and whoever else runs into him! Closed sections for Tohko Amano (

tohko_amano ) and Waver Velvet (

fionnuisce ) & Sephiroth (

pinnaculum ).
Setting: Floor 100, 39 (the Gym), 25 (the Meadow), 3 (the Library), and others.
Format: Any!
Summary: Diarmuid takes care of some loose ends, moves ahead some projects, and does some much needed thinking.
Warnings: None right now. Will update if that changes.
Note: Title quote credit to Anthony Liccione.

Floor 100 (Open):

For a long time after he started spending time here, Diarmuid had spent most of his time near the image of his house losing hours playing a game between himself and the floor seeing how well it actually had recreated the place he loved so much. After a while, though, he had started to move out and away from the house, through the yard, passed the training grounds and the dog kennels, and finally to the forest that had stood guard behind his house. Diarmuid had been disappointed to find that the illusion stopped a few feet into the treeline and thus short of where the stream had flowed, but it did go far enough back to include one of his favorite thinking spots from his first life.

The spot itself is nothing fancy. Just a small clearing with two trees leaning in toward each other shading a large rock with their branches. Of course, here he cannot sit upon or lean against the rock as he had so often done in the past, but he has found the perfect place to sit so that he can still imagine that is what he is doing. And so, it is here near the treeline that he has taken to sitting to think once he had lost the ability to do so in his room.

It seems to Diarmuid that almost all he has done lately is think, but at the same time, he has so much to think about. So much has happened to him so quickly over the last few months that he is honestly surprised he can still function. Nothing during his first life had prepared him for anything like this--this constant opening of old wounds and giving of new ones before the first had any time to heal. It is almost like the nightmare that had started when his master had ordered him to kill himself just had never ended.

Yet, there are bright points. A great many of them and that is why Diarmuid is so determined to finally get his mind straightened out. It will take time, he knows, but it will also take him finally forcing himself to believe so many of the things he has realized through his talks with others. Things Diarmuid has asked others to do, but always seems to forget to ask himself to do.

He has told both Cecil and Waver that he knows he holds himself to higher standards than others and really needs to stop. Everyone is equal in the tower. Everyone has had their souls taken from their bodies and placed into false forms. There is no reason for him to expect so much more from himself especially when expecting so much only sets him up for failure.

He has told Suzaku, Ryoji, and Mami that everyone makes mistakes and that making them doesn't make them any less of a person. As long as they don't stop fighting and don't let the mistakes beat them, there is always a chance to find forgiveness.

He has told Yata that 'knight' is just a label. It doesn't matter if others believe that is what you are as long as you know what you are in your heart and act to serve the best way you can.

And he has told his brother and Hidetoshi that he knows he is in a rut of negative feelings. He just has to find his way out.

That is why Diarmuid is spending so much time here just thinking and watching the illusionary trees move in the breeze. Sometimes he's meditating on things using a technique that Oisin taught him so very long ago. Sometimes he has actually dozed off during his thoughts and sometimes, soft singing in ancient Gaelic can be heard drifting across the floor as he unconsciously releases his emotions in a way that so many around him did when he was young.

Floor 25 (Closed to Tohko, tohko_amano ):

He picked the meadow as the place where he wanted to meet with Tohko because it is one of the few floors where it isn't unusual for people to meet and talk. It is safe, large enough that several groups can be talking in it without bothering each other, and also has plenty of room away from the walls and the prying eyes of any devices the Administrators might be using to spy on them. With the loss of the sauna as a place to safely discuss things like the resistance--he has seen the units working there and guessed that some of the information that had been discovered by Jason's little ploy must have been about the lack of cameras on that floor--they've had to make due the best they can.

As Diarmuid waits for her to arrive, he sits and casually twists flowers together into chains and rings as a way to relax and pass time. Tohko is already late and he hopes that is just because she is taking time to lose the new 'friend' he hears she has picked up. Despite being proud of the fact she is not letting the dangers involved with being a part of the resistance stop her, Diarmuid can't help but worry that someday she will get in way over her head and not be able to find her way back out.

Floor 3 (Closed to Waver, fionnuisce and Sephiroth, pinnaculum ):
(OOC: Is a posting order of Diarmuid -> Waver -> Sephiroth okay?)

As Diarmuid enters the library and looks around for Sephiroth or Waver, there is excitement in his eyes. Ever since he had heard from Sephiroth that the printing press is working, he has been looking forward to learning how to use it. Well, honestly he doesn't care so much for the workings of the machine itself like Waver might. What he does care about is the fact that learning to use it is one big step forward toward getting the information he and the others have gathered about the dangers of the tower's floors out to the public. Add in the fact that Waver is going to be learning it with him since he and Sephiroth seem to get along so well and Waver has an interest in the machine anyway, and it is shaping up to be a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.

Diarmuid's just going to have to keep reminding himself that Waver probably won't appreciate having ink smeared on him, because for some reason the image of the magus with ink smeared all over his face just keeps popping into his head...

Any Floor (Open):
(OOC: Feel free to use this prompt not only if you want to have you character catch Diarmuid leaving the information sheets around, but also if you would like your character to find and comment on one!)

Diarmuid just can't stop smiling. Not only had learning the printing press gone well, but the rough drafts of the floor information that he is holding in his hands as a result are a huge step forward for the project. It doesn't matter that right now the papers are missing some of the information that has been gathered and the map that Saber has been working on. It is still progress.

On the sheet he is looking at, the floors have been divided into three groups--floors that are completely safe, floors that are safe as long as you are careful or have some kind of fighting skill, and floors that are dangerous even for those who are highly trained in fighting. Each floor has a short summary of what it is and its dangers if there are any. It is a commonsensical way to organize things, but the set up and the limitations of the printing press mean that there isn't nearly as much information on it as he would like. Organization is something he will definitely have to discuss with everyone once they gather together again. In the meantime, he has put his name and room number on the dozen or so copies he has along with a request that any suggestions for improvement be sent to him.

After giving the sheets one more look over, Diarmuid heads off to start leaving them around the tower. His limited number means he has to be selective, so he focuses on leaving them on well traveled floors like the library, cafeteria, gym and lounges. He also leaves them near some of the more dangerous floors, all in places where he can easily check on them when he patrols next to see if he can get some idea of how quickly they are going to disappear. The information will be important later when they are deciding how many copies to make and where to leave them.

Floor 39 (Open):

After dropping off the last of the information sheets and finishing his patrol for the day, Diarmuid is still too excited to retire for the night, so he instead stops by the gym. Anyone who has fought with him before or has watched him practice will notice that his movements seem different than usual. There is a lightness and a joy to them now that makes him even more fun to watch. Without any real rhyme or reason he switches back and forth between practicing with his spear and the two swords he is carrying.

It's been a long time since he has felt this good. He has no idea how long the feeling will last, but he is being careful to memorize it so that when the darkness descends again like it always does in this place, he will have that to hold onto--to remind him that even if the progress may be slow, it is there. Someday they will be freed of all of this, and he has to be strong enough to make sure that not only do his friends make it there, he does as well because he friends will not be satisfied with anything else.

And for the first time in a long time, he won't be either.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Diarmuid shrugs looking a little sheepish.]

Sorry, I spent a lot of time evading those I didn't want to fight and possibly hurt when I was running. That kind of evasive battle style kind of stuck. But if you wish me to focus on attacking, all you needed to do is ask.

For the record, though, if you had managed to keep me from making that leap over your head? You most likely would have defeated me. As you have noticed, I work best when not so heavily pressed. Strength is not my strong point.

[And as soon as those words leave his mouth, Diarmuid dashes forward. At first, it seems as those his strike is aimed for his brother's head, but once he gets in close--only seconds before contact would be made--the direction will change becoming a blow aimed at Cu Chulainn's chest that is just begging for interception by his brother's spear.]

[He tsks his tongue.]

What did I tell you about airing out all your weaknesses, bro? You'll never gain an advantage that way.

[He doesn't get much time to continue jeering at his brother before he has to raise his spear to block Gae Dearg.]

Now that's more like it!

[Diarmuid smirks, though he doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he twists his spear in an attempt to hook and pull Gae Bolg away from his brother's body leaving the other man open for a follow up attack.]

I don't fear my weaknesses, brother. I embrace them and compensate for them. Why should I worry about who knows them if I know how to deal with them? Besides, if they wish to try and take advantage of that weakness...

[His smirk grows.]

...I will be glad to make the most of their mistake.

[As Lancer notices the pull, he struggles to keep his spear in front of him.]

Then it's a good thing I don't need to know about weaknesses to beat an opponent.

[But even saying so, he's scanning Diarmuid's pose, trying find a weak point. However, so far, there is none. Nothing would indicate that Diarmuid is more used to dual-wielding than using only one weapon.]

Edited 2013-05-21 01:45 (UTC)

[If his brother is looking for a weakness in his weapon handling abilities, he will likely quickly learn that he his wasting his time. Just because Diarmuid often mentions that he misses having his other spear doesn't mean he cannot fight just as well with one as he does with two.

It's just a matter of personal preference.

When he realizes his brother's spear won't be moved, he pulls back slightly, detangling himself from his opponent before dodging quickly to the side and angling in at his brother's knees. At first, he seems to be aiming to try for a stab, but at the last moment he flips his spear around to try for a sweep instead. It's a risky move because such a low approach is going to leave him off balance, but hopefully if things go well enough his brother will be off balance as well...]

[Lancer tries to step away from the stab, but finds himself tripping over his own feet when it turns into a stab. However, he's quick to recover and uses a hand to support himself as he cartwheels to the side.]

I suppose flexibility is another thing you learned from whoever taught you to use your arms?

Of course.

[Diarmuid halts his momentum as his brother moves away, falling back into a relaxed stance waiting for a moment to strike again.]

Did I ever tell you some of the things the Fianna had to be able to do to gain admission? There was a reason we were known as the greatest warriors in Ireland.

[He lowers his spear looking as if he might attack again, but then pauses.]

I wonder... Would you mind attacking me at full speed like you were before? Like when you almost overwhelmed me? I would like to try something.

[Because that was how he worked. If it came down to it, his Eye of the Mind ability would show him a way to escape, but the warrior in him isn't exactly happy with just escaping. If he can find a way to beat that attack, then he wants to beat it. Not run from it.]

Better than the Red Branch Knights, even?

[Though he asks, he knows just from Diarmuid's behavior that the Fianna probably had tighter admission standards.]

Promise me you won't regret that request. We Red Branch Knights might not know so much about everything else, but we're the best fighters, hands down!

[He charges quickly, thrusting his lance straight at Diarmuid's chest. ]

[Diarmuid passes on answering his brother's joke focusing himself and waiting for the attack to come. Once it does, he forces his mind to speed up its thought processes and in a way slows the movement of his opponent toward him. His first thought is the standard response to an attack like this, dodge. Immediately, he throws that option away since this is suppose to be all about finding another way besides escape to deal with such a strong and pressing attack. His second thought is to block, but he knows full well that with as much force that is behind that attack, blocking straight out will be a bad idea especially without his other spear. That leaves one more option...

Deflecting.

Diarmuid drops down slightly. He's not intending to dodge, which it might look like he is. Instead, it is so that he can get his spear up and under his brother's, using the other man's momentum to twist and pull weapon away. He's not sure what will happen. His brother might be disarmed or maybe thrown off balance and the attack stopped. Or maybe Diarmuid will find himself the one disarmed or on the floor, but whatever the outcome, he is putting his full effort into it.

It is the only way he will learn.]

[The two weapons snag together. Instead of showing any sign of frustration, Lancer just smiles. He lets the spear start to slip out of his hands, then clings tighter to it and uses the force of Diarmuid's pull to push forward. When he gets close enough, he lets go of the spear with one hand so he can throw a punch.]

[To say that Diarmuid isn't expecting something like that from his brother would be a lie, especially since he had taken the initiative and brought himself into punching range. He twists so that punch grazes his arm and winces slightly since it still stings more than he anticipated. That small amount of pain doesn't break his focus, though, and he releases his spear with the hand that hasn't been hit, trying to use that free arm to trap his brother's arm before he can pull it back.]

[Now both their arms and spears are tangled together.]

...Well, bro, got any other tricks?

[Cu Chulainn can't break away for now, but neither can Diarmuid use his fancy moves.]

[Diarmuid just grins at him.]

In fact, I do!

[And without any more warning, Diarmuid throws himself backward and down onto his back hoping to pull his brother forward and throw him over his head and onto the ground behind them. At the same time, he kicks out with one of his legs looking to not only land a blow that might break a few ribs were this a real fight, but also to push and add that much more force to the throw.]

[Lancer gets pulled down and takes the kick to the abdomen, stunning him for a moment, however, he recovers as he is being thrown and turns the throw into a bodyslam of sorts. His upper half smashes into the ground and his lower body lands on Diarmuid's face.]

Ow.

[The impact stuns Diarmuid slightly since he had expected his brother to continue over him once he had started moving that way and so he doesn't realize right away what part of his brother's...anatomy has landed on his face. Once his head clears and he realizes it, though, he turns his head to the side, blushing bright red. His hand rises automatically to push the other man away. Unfortunately, because of how tangled up they are, he can't get enough leverage to get anywhere.]

Brother, as much as I love you, you have until the count of three to move or else I am going to make it very difficult for you to further that reputation of yours...

[When he realizes what part of himself is in direct contact with Diarmuid's face, he also blushes and scrambles to flip around so he lies with his face up and no inappropriate parts in the face of another person.]

Oops. Sorry.

[Diarmuid rolls his head so that it is facing where his brother is now laying, but he doesn't bother to get up. He does laugh, however.]

I'm not sure if I should call that little maneuver successful. Granted, I'm not dead, but at the same time that...was not quite the result I had in mind.

...

[Lancer gets a funny, half-terrified look on his face.]

Ah, shit. Did it really come that close to killing you?

[If it was anyone else, he would've grumbled something like "well you're fine now so stop talking about it." But given his history with his brothers, Diarmuid's joke makes him a little uncomfortable.]

[Diarmuid shakes his head and reaches out with one arm to ruffle his brother's hair.]

No, no, brother. Relax. It was merely a poor choice of words on my part. My apologies. I was in no real danger.

Whatever. We're both alive right now, so there's no need to worry about stuff like that.

[He sits up.]

So, what do we do now?

As you wish.

[Diarmuid smiles and sits up as well.]

Are we done with our little spar now? Or did you want to see more? If you can find a weapon that would not damage the swords Waver made me, I would be glad to show you a bit of what I can do with them.

I think I've seen enough of your spear for now. You're really good with it.

[He gets a nostalgic smile on his face.]

Times at these, I wish I still had my spear from home. She made that for me, you know.

[Diarmuid grins, pulling his knees up and crossing his arms over them. He then rests his chin on his arms.]

I know. I know all your stories remember? Just call me your very own Ancient Irish stalker.

[He laughs.]

I'm not talking about something I got from my time! My first Master made me a spear, you know.

Oh? To replace the one she sealed away, you mean?

[Diarmuid's grin turns into something softer.]

Will you tell me about it?

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39

Re: floor 39