towerofanimus | Locked in the Tower ✪ Part Two: Garbage Day

Characters:	David "Little David" Puskás, and all youse guys!
Setting:	Any floors throughout the tower, Floor Fifty-five (the Incinerator), and later Floor Fifteen (the Workshop).
Format:	Matching tagger's choice, but starting with Prose.
Summary:	David finally gets around to putting his rifle back together. Before that, the tower's given him an all-too-familiar job to do.
Warnings:	Well, the workshop's not OSHA compliant ... come to think of it, neither is the incinerator.

Option A: Any stairways/floors and Floor 55 (Incinerator)

     What a way for things to come full circle.

     This morning, he'd received a notice that he'd been assigned a job within the Tower. Garbage Duty. The very sort of job he'd had in the years before he answered the call to justice.

     Yet, the recent events in the tower—not just the glamour failure, but the concerted acts of defiance and rebellion as well as the network discussions on whether or not everyone had accepted the life imposed on them—did have David initially doubting himself. Should he do this job? It'd just be mindlessly accepting what the Tower wants from him, wouldn't it? That bit of doubt didn't last very long, though—after all, who wants to live in their own filth? Even if it's made from the same film as everyone's bodies, simulated waste is hardly any more pleasant.

     So it's still a dirty job, and someone's got to do it ... and thankfully, having powered armor with a flight system makes the job much easier.

     So throughout today, wherever you might be in the tower (and especially on Floor Fifty-Five), you'll likely find David hovering about, hauling bags of garbage up and down the Tower to the incinerator with a grim yet chipper look. As if the work itself doesn't bother him all that much, but the circumstances—what's happening to the tower's residents—do.

Option B: Floor 15 (Workshop)

     Once his duty is done for the day, David heads down from the dormitories to Floor Fifteen, armed with a box filled with the parts from his completely disassembled Vanguard "Redding" assault rifle.

     He'd been meaning to get to this since his arrival, but the glamour failure and Ruana's "game" forced him to put it off. Not a good idea to leave yourself vulnerable when you have little means of fighting back. Now, though—between Xue'kol's own notes and the tower floor guide posted on the network, he can get the rifle put back together while there's a lull in the action. The few times he'd scoped out the workshop during his garbage duties, he'd seen that it appeared to have tools suitable for gunsmithing. Just what he'd need to make his rifle whole again.

     It's going to be a time-consuming project. He'll be there for the rest of the day—and likely a few hours into the night at least—installing and assembling the Redding rifle, piece by piece. Holding assemblies in place with vises, driving pin punches, torquing nuts. He's not used to trying to put the rifle back together from a state of complete disassembly, and it shows with the way he fumbles the job every now and then until he gets it right.

     As the gold-and-green rifle's coming together, though, it'll be clear that it's almost as long as David is tall ... which, granted, he's only 5'3", but that's still a damn big gun.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"If they do, wouldn't you hear about them on the news?" Even if they covered it up, there's bound to be one story about heroes versus villains slipping out. What news station wouldn't love a good story to receive all the ratings?

"...Rikti War?" Minato seemed curious, but just look at David. Does he want to tell him about the war, or leave it be?

David picks up on Minato's interest in the Rikti War, but he reacts to his other question first. "Oh, yeah, stuff gettin' on da news happens all da time," David responds, looking a little perplexed at the question. "Public recognition is part of da whole job. Been dat way even back when ol' Statesman was stickin' it to da mob in da Thirties."

"But uh—yeah, da Rikti War," David continues, having not forgotten Minato's curiosity. "Dat ... was a real game-changer. Happened back in 2002, 'bout ten years ago for me. Da whole planet got invaded by what we thought was an alien race. 'Cept da Rikti ain't; dey're actually from another dimension entirely."

David's got more to tell, though he pauses momentarily to give Minato an opportunity to speak.

No surprises about the news things. For every hero story that have them work in the shadows, there's many others shown in fictional public. Of course, most of the time, it present a challenge for the heroes to maintain their double lives.

"Another dimension...Did they break through just to invade the planet?"

David's expression screws into an uncertain look. "Dat's what we thought at da time," he responds. "Dey certainly wanted us wiped out. Why, though, dat was a mystery for a while. 'Cause we already had some kinda first contact ting with dem years ago thanks to Portal Corp. An' dey never found dem to be da Genghis Khan types, yanno?"

"But it was ugly, da war. Da Rikti totally outclassed da military. Only ting dat stopped 'em was superheroes. Especially anybody with Magic-origin powers, 'cause dat messes with da Rikti like nobody's business. Even den, we only won dat war 'cause of dis last-stand plan. Most of da world's survivin' heroes doin' dis all-out counterattack to get da Rikti good an' distracted while a small team of magical heroes snuck into da Rikti's homeworld and blew up all dier interdimensional travel stuff."

David shakes his head. "Whole lotta good people died in dat war. Includin' a lotta superheroes."

Minato is quiet for a moment. It's a fact; people died in wars, no matter what kind it was. He never expected a peaceful solution to this, from what he heard about the war.

"...After their interdimensional travelling equipment blew up, what happened to the remaining Rikti?"

Did they surrender? Or die in battle? Or even get executed?

"Didn't phase 'em much," David responds. "Lest as far as we could tell, dey didn't panic or scatter. Dey just switched from fightin' us on a war footing to guerilla tactics. Pulled deir forces back into hiding, popping up every now an' den to make our lives miserable ... but hey, at least extinction wasn't in da cards anymore."

"But dat's how tings got to be as bad as dey did in Paragon. We'd jus' come off fightin' for our lives, and da whole city was a mess. Like, literally," David sweeps a hand out to a side, as if to gesture to some map of Paragon City in his mind. "Entire boroughs turned into bombed-out rubble. Whole supergroups wiped out, da police were left with a skeleton crew on a shoestring budget ... Criminals an' career villains started comin' outta da woodwork, breedin' like rabbits."

David readjusts the cigar in his mouth for a moment. "Da city—da world needed new heroes to carry da torch. An' I was one of dose who answered da call."

"You're a brave person for it."

Minato can understand answering to the call. The situation was different for him, less superheroes and villains, but no less important.

"Will the world get better? Even by a little?"

David takes a few moments to respond to that question, mulling it over in his mind. Well ... It was getting better, wasn't it? For all the threats they'd face since the Rikti War ended, Paragon City and Primal Earth had found its feet. Yet it did seem like for every zone that benefited from reconstruction efforts, another one was laid low by a new crisis.

And that's not counting what's happened with this whole multiverse eating bug, whatever it is.

David's lips purse, tightening his grip on the cigar for a moment before he subtly nods and responds. "Yeah," David says. "It will. Was a long hard road, always havin' something new screwin' things up, but hey, we were bouncin' back."

He glances over to the nearest window—or failing that, in the general direction of the outer walls of the Tower. "An' I wanna make sure dis—virus or whatever it is takin' out our worlds ain't da end of it."

Minato watches David carefully, noting the small reactions he can notice--as much as he can see on the bigger man--and then hearing the answer. The answer is what he's expecting, almost hoping maybe, to hear from a hero and how things won't always be perfect.

But it's still a good answer.

"Then I'll be counting on you. I want to make sure we'll prevail, somehow, no matter how daunting it looks."

It's a big step up from fighting monsters under a full moon. Something that can destroy worlds? A very big step up in danger level.

"You an' me both," David replies with a grin, though it falls flat after a moment as he continues. "Makes me wish da admins saw things dat way, rather dan—all dis crap dey've been givin' everybody, yanno? 'We saved you, now we're gonna screw with you.'"

Were that cigar of his lit, the huff of irritation that punctuates his words would have been accompanied with a blot of smoke.

"I'd gladly put my butt on da line to help figure out how to make things right, if dey'd let me."

Locked in the Tower ✪ Part Two: Garbage Day

it's alright!

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Back to backtagging! Posted another notice at the OOC comm, by the way!

Yay! And yeah, I read the post. Congrats!

:'D Thank you!