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

Entry tags:

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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Tohko had promised France that she would make him a new French flag, one to hold up with pride and show the Administrators that the French-and everyone else here, really-couldn't be put down for the count. However, as she wandered into the workshop, she couldn't help but notice the man putting together a gun. As she gathered up some fabric to stitch together, as well as a needle and some thread, she watched him.

"Pardon me, but..do you need any help with putting that together?"

..She didn't know anything about guns, but it wouldn't hurt to ask if he needed help. After all, making a French flag shouldn't take up too much of her time, so she could work on that afterwards if he needed her help.

By the point Tohko's approached David, he's got the lower receiver assembly in a vise block, trying to install the trigger and disconnector into place. Just after she asks, he winds up fumbling the punch pin he was using to get the two parts locked into place. The two parts skitter off of the lower assembly in the process.

"Gah—bless it—!" David grumbles in frustration, biting into the unlit cigar held in his mouth. He leans forward to pick up the errant pin and parts, but pauses when he realizes that he's not alone now. He glances up at Tohko.

"You an armsmith?" David asks in reply. Sure, she looks like an ordinary teenager, but if there's one thing he's learned from his superhero career, it's that anyone can be an arms expert or otherwise powered. Even schoolgirls.

Edited 2013-07-26 23:00 (UTC)

While Tohko knew the basics about shooting a gun, since she had read stories, she wasn't quite sure how to deal with something as complex as this. She was a book girl first, not a weapons maker.

"I'm actually a book girl, but that doesn't mean I can't help you put this thing together!"

Edited 2013-07-27 01:43 (UTC)

David wasn't the only one with this job. Ever since he woken up and find out about his job, Minato's been consistently attending it. It's dirty, hard work, and while revelations about the glamour system show another layer to this work, it's still work.

Minato never complain about it, as it help fill up his routine and give him an excuse to check the various floors again.

At the fifty fifth floor, Minato was hauling his bags of garbage over towards the incinerator. He blinked when he saw someone's there already. New coworker?

"...Hi."

"Oh—heh, 'course," David responds. "Yeah, I could use some help if you wanna give it a shot."

David reaches over the table to collect the errant parts, gesturing to the box and the lower assembly currently held in the vise. "Dis is an assault rifle. Or was. Administrators left it like dis when dey yanked me outta my hometown." But, he reminds himself mentally, it's not even really his rifle. The real one is probably still with his real body, back on Primal Earth ...

He glances out over the rest of the workshop, dismissing that line of thought. "I'm just lucky dey gave us a floor like dis, or I'd be really up a river without a paddle."

Not just a new coworker, but a flying one!

David's staying about a foot off of the ground, the main thruster on his back keeping him aloft while he finishes throwing a bag of garbage right into the incinerator. He's about to throw the other one he'd been carrying in when the unfamiliar voice grabs his attention. The maneuvering jets on his boots flare a few times as he spins in place to face Minato.

"Oh, heyas," David replies. "Dey got you stuck doin' dis crap, too?"

Edited (Dreamwdith stop changing the comment subject title on me ;_;) 2013-07-27 09:26 (UTC)

Which is, frankly, pretty cool. Minato can use his Personas to fly, but using them can be mentally draining in the long term.

Minato lightly drops his bags on the ground, before straightening up to address the man with nifty gears. He nods.

"Yes. They assigned me to this job months ago."

So in a way, Minato is like David's senior.

Wouldn't be the first time! David had to get used to that awkwardness when he began his superhero career. Or—even more awkward, running into villains treating him like a naive youngblood.

Like Vahzilok's organ-harvesting creeps.

The less said about them, the better.

"Weird, ain't it?" David replies, "That they're handin' jobs out like dat when dey've got dem drone-like people takin' care of everything."

He takes a moment to fling the other garbage bag into the incinerator before turning back to Minato, gesturing to the orange collar on his neck. "Da ones with da red an' clear collars, I mean."

The workshop was a floor that Kain gravitated towards. Idle hands were of no use in a place like this, and he could hardly spend his entire day chasing down monsters. Besides, he had found a book on leatherworking, and had been experimenting with preserving the skins from the monsters he had hunted. The equipment may have been false, but the beasts that roamed this tower were surprisingly real. There was surely some benefit in that.

Kain had toiled quietly for much of the afternoon leading to evening, paying any others in the place little mind. But when he looked up and realized the time, realized how late it was becoming, he stood and began to pack his things. He ought to eat... and then prepare for another evening of hunting. There were far too many in this place that needed to be defended.

...and perhaps that gentleman over there at the work bench needed to be reminded of the time. "Evening approaches! It might be best to set your work aside for later, sir!"

David looks up from his work. By now, he'd managed to get much of the rifle reassembled, if not yet in one piece. He's got a ways to go yet before the boomstick's usable again.

"Oh—right, da monsters get worse at night," David calls back in response, though he's more thinking aloud when he says that. Maybe, though, he won't need to leave the workshop right away ...

"Do you know if dey track people by sight? Da monsters?"

"Of course! I'm always happy to help out!" Even if she did have a habit of biting off way more than she could chew.

However, Tohko did pay attention at the man showed her the box and the equipment. So this was what an assault rifle looked like when it wasn't put together. However, while Tohko knew nothing about putting together a gun, it wasn't that fact that caused her to sigh at the guy. He must really be new here..it sounded like he believed that this rife was his rifle, or an actual rifle to begin with.

"I'm sorry to hear that the Administrators stuck you with a rifle like this, especially when they could have easily given you a fully-built one. It is good that we have this floor though. Even if we didn't have to worry about weapons, it lets us make other things..even if it's all film and fake under the illusions."

If Minato knows about that, he would leave the topic alone. Or ask out of curiosity. It depends on the conversation at the time, really.

"Yeah." Minato nods, looking a bit thoughtful. "They could order them to do these jobs, but they probably have a good reason for assigning us instead."

Speaking of jobs, Minato should toss his bags into the incinerator. He picks them up again and walks over towards the incinerator, tossing them in one by one.

Upon hearing David's response, Kain's first thought is that the voice is very familiar. His second thought is one of faint frustration, that the man seems in no hurry to pack up and go. But then again, considering the first, neither is Kain, now.

"It depends on the monster. Most seem to operate on sight. Some by scent. Others... something else entirely." He begins to approach David's workbench, moderating his volume appropriately.

"...I suspect that we've met, sir. Over a month ago, when the glamour first failed." He paused, then, to give the man the chance to clarify or protest. Maybe he was mistaken... but he didn't think he was mistaken.

"My guess? Busywork," David replies with a shrug. "Somethin' else to keep us occupied while we live here. Even if it's all dis stuff really is, is just dat film gooop."

David watches Minato heave the rest of his bags into the incinerator for a moment before speaking up again.

"Never thought I'd be doin' dis job again, though, 'specially after da end of da world. Ya know?"

David grimaces in disappointment, at first. His suit's stealth systems don't do anything to mask his scent, and depending on what the criterion would be behind the man's mention of "something else entirely," he might as well be as helpless trying to sneak around the Tower as he was the day the glamour failed—

Funny enough, this other guy just mentioned it!

"We have?" David replies with a small quizzical frown. Wait—this guy's voice does sound familiar. That's all about he has to go on, but—David raises an index finger for a moment while he's racking his brain trying to recall who among those he ran into that day could have been this fellow.

Aha! David gestures to Kain with his pointing hand. "You were da guy with dat pointy stick, yeah? Savin' my butt from dose monsters?"

"Yeah," David says with a lopsided grin. "Seems like stuff made outta dat stuff is as effective as anything else, though."

He taps the side of his helmet. "Dat day when we found out we're all made of bendy wires an' goop? But da monsters in dis tower still got deir real bodies? Some guys I ran into were fightin' with dem. Not sure what it was dey were usin' 'cause everything looked like a mess of seran wrap to me, but whatever it was, dey did da job."

He glances over at his half-assembled rifle. "So—maybe my rifle'll work just da same. Won't know until I try."

"Most likely. And it's yet another way for them to keep track of us. I don't think anyone can avoid doing their job for too long."

Minato looked over at David, mildly curious about the man.

"You're a garbage man back in your world?"

"Yeah," David grins. "I was a refuse collection supervisor for Paragon City. Up until I got into da hero biz, dat is."

While talking, David gets a little more comfortable hovering in the air where he is—folding his arms and leaning back as if he were resting against a wall. Except, the only thing supporting him is the thrust from his back-mounted thruster.

Minato's eyes glances over at David's thrusters, curiously. While he didn't voice it, it did somewhat appeal to a small part of him.

"Sounds like you have quite a story. It's a bit of a leap from working with garbage to being a hero."

"Heh, well, my 'origin story' ain't as good as others," David says. "But if you wanna hear it, I'm game. First though, uh—dis is da first time you heard of Paragon City, yeah?"

Couldn't hurt to ask ... maybe this kid's from a dimension similar to Primal Earth. Even if it wouldn't be Primal Earth.

Tohko returned the smile, but hers was a little less lopsided than David's. "That's true! At least, until the illusions are pulled away. Then most of it, I imagine, might not be as effective. But that's just my guess. I could be wrong."

As she spoke, Tohko sighed and looked over the rifle, but she nodded and kept smiling as she spoke.

"The goop you're referring to is the collar fluid and your own soul. I believe the fluid helps keep your soul from running away. And it's possible that the guy you saw was using a sword or something..but you're right. I imagine that your rifle will probably work just fine..if we can put it back together. How can I help out? I really don't know much about making or repairing guns."

David nods every now and then as Tohko responds. Ultimately, he won't know how well it will work until the glamour is stripped away again ... but superheroes aren't so easily stopped by the potential for things not working out.

Besides, the next time it happens, he'd at least like to try and fight back rather than be helpless.

"Well—" David holds up the trigger and disconnector that he'd been trying to reassemble. "Right now? I'm tryin' to get da trigger group put in place. First I gotta put dese two parts into da lower receiver dere, pin 'em in place, an' den lock it all down in with dese screws here. So—best place to start would be gettin' dese pinned in."

After going over that, David turns to the lower receiver on the vise block, putting the trigger into a marked section of the reciever, and then the disconnector on top of it. "Gonna be honest, I never had to put my gun back together completely like dis, so I've had to play it by ear a lil'. I've been gettin' it right so far, though. I think."

Minato shook his head.

"No, I haven't heard of Paragon City before."

Do tell him, David. He's all ears.

Before responding, David nods at Minato's answer and takes the unlit cigar out of his mouth, glancing down at it.

"Paragon City," David intones while contemplating the cigar. This would have been a good moment to light it for dramatic effect ... if only the admins let him keep his lighter. "Paragon City, Rhode Island. Biggest city in da United States, outside of New York up da way dere. More heroes had a home in Paragon dan anywhere else in da world. S'why you'd hear people callin' it 'Da City of Heroes.'"

David places the cigar back in his mouth. "I was born an' raised dere. Good place to live, if you didn't mind watchin' da show when somebody in spandex showed up if dere was goons breakin' da law. 'Least, it was a good place to live. And I ain't talkin' about dat dimension-killing thing dat's da talk of da Tower."

Which sounds like he's about to segue into the proper beginning to his "origin story," unless Minato wants to interject.

Nope, not yet. It did seem like one of those alternate worlds differences, as he haven't heard of a city like Paragon City back home. If there was such a place and it's known as te City of Heroes, Junpei would've mentioned it before.

With how much Junpei love action and heroes, Minato expected it.

"So it's like any other city, just with a lot of heroes?"

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

Locked in the Tower ✪ Part Two: Garbage Day

Floor 15

no subject

no subject

Incinerator

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Floor 15

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject