Reno (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
midgarhorizon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-10-20 01:19 pm
midgarhorizon) wrote in towerofanimus2013-10-20 01:19 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
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 dealuntil 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 anythingat 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.
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
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
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.
no subject
It's how helpless he feels now that he knows just how powerful his enemy is. It's how terrified he is that he might never be able to see to it that Ryoji is safe from this man.
"So much for wanting to become a hero and protector of the people. Fallen heroes are the bane of so many worlds..."
Diarmuid's thoughts, of course, float back to the younger Sephiroth in the Tower. He has no way of knowing that Sephiroth is from an alternate version of events. Diarmuid just assumes he is from the older Sephiroth's past, especially from how Reno describes the labs and testing. It is all too much like what he was told.
"Why did he change?" Diarmuid turns confused eyes toward Reno, "The younger version that is here... He's not like that. Sure, he is proud of his skills. Most warriors are, but he wants to help people. He doesn't want to hurt them. What changes him? Is it something with the alien DNA? Does it take him over? Does someone indoctrinate him with the idea he is a god?"
He falls quiet after the questions, turning to lightly press his hand against the painting, "Perhaps why doesn't matter. It happensed and that is what matters. You said he almost destroyed your world. How was he stopped? How do you stop something like this?"
The question is asked for two reasons. Obviously, Diarmuid wants to know what Sephiroth's weaknesses are if there are any, so that he can try somehow to think of a way to use them to his advantage. The other reason is less selfish and more a matter of saving everyone in the Tower...
If he gets his full power back, what is to keep Sephiroth from trying something like that here just to prove to the Administrators that he is not to be messed with? He wouldn't care one bit about killing everyone in the Tower to do it either. This Diarmuid is sure of. That is why it must never happen.
"You're right. Bad doesn't begin to cover this. Suddenly, I understand why forcing my son to kill himself in front of me and his girlfriend meant so little to Sephiroth. What is one life when you are perfectly willing to destroy a whole planet of lives just to prove a point?"
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or was that tried to forget?much of the last few days on Gaia. He had forgotten himself. Everything that happened to him here, in some small way he knew it had to be the punishment for letting Gaia die.Reno turned away from Diarmuid. He may not have been from Gaia, but his questions, his eyes that were so confused bothered him. It was the same look he had seen on so many broken, angry people in Midgar. People who had blamed everything on the company, and even though Reno had hated it, he couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't their fault.
A new painting on the wall caught his attention. ShinRa Tower was depicted against a dark, mako green sky. The searchlights hit the clouds behind it. Helicopters hovered in the air. Everything looked normal, which was strange in itself, until you looked at the sky closely. The burning red of Meteor seeped through the clouds behind the building, heralding its doom. The Turks had called that Tower home once, and in many ways, it was filled with just as many terrors as the Tower of Animus.
Reno's attention focused completely on the new painting, finding some reserve of new strength to pull his head up again. Turk's Code, Paragraph One. Complete the mission.
This wasn't a new game. It was the same old story. The rules were just different.
"I may be a Turk, but I don't know everything. I'm not even the leader, I'm a fuckin' field agent. I wouldn't be able to scratch him even if I tried. I have to play a smarter game with him and he's got me outmatched on all sides. I'm not even the best person to talk to 'bout killing people just to prove a point. I'm almost as bad as him on that..." Here, he trailed off, his lips stretching into a blood thirsty grin and he turned back around to face Diarmuid. "But I'm damned if I ain't gonna fight until they can't bring me back anymore."
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Diarmuid wants to apologize, but what can he say that would actually mean anything? Even if they are successful. Even if their worlds are restored. Gaia will not be. It will still be ravaged by Sephiroth's insane actions, and he will never feel regret for his actions. He will never feel the guilt he should, but it seems someone does feel guilt.
Why else would the Tower show Reno so many versions of this event? Diarmuid doesn't miss the new picture that has caught Reno's attention, and while it is a different scene, he knows enough now to recognize the glow in the background.
Meteor.
Without asking Reno more personal questions than Diarmuid thinks the man will stand for, there is no way for him to know exactly why he feels guilt. Maybe he wanted to do more. Maybe he thinks he missed a chance to stop what happened. Maybe he doesn't even know himself, but the guilt is there.
Diarmuid steps closer to Reno and the picture just in time to catch sight of that wild grin. However, it doesn't phase Diarmuid as much as one might think it would. He's seen enough smiles like that in battle that they don't have the impact they once did.
"Heroes are only murderers whose side won the day or somehow managed to survive to tell the tale. Does it matter if you have killed? I have as well. You most likely on the orders of your superiors and I on the orders of my lord. We may not regret every death, but we at least recognize them and see the cost. It is what separates us from people like Sephiroth. That and the fact that we, unlike he, are not alone. I expect that he would backstab Ganondorf in a moment if he had the opportunity, and Ganondorf would likely do the same."
Diarmuid pauses so that he can meet Reno's eyes, "It doesn't matter if you can't fight him directly. You aren't fighting alone. I don't know how many of the people you knew before you left are still here, but I have a pretty good network of people of my own. If you will trust me, I would like to help you and ask you to help me. I also do not give up, so lets find a way to make him pay and to keep him from turning the collar research into a nightmare when it is suppose to be what sets us free."
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The Turk was ignoring the comments of murders and heroes. It was immaterial now, in the past. Discussing would gain them nothing, and in some sense, Reno wished he could still feel guilty about what he had done. Regret wasn't guilt, and wishing did little good in a place like the Tower. Gaia was a harsh world, more so than a lot of others, if what the stories he heard from other people's worlds were true. You couldn't feel guilty about eating the chocobo that carried you through the swamp if you had run out of food and it meant survival.
"Trust isn't easy for me." Reno tended to be rather blunt, but that's the first time he openly admitted being wary on a daily basis of other people, especially to someone who was more or less a complete stranger. Turks were one thing, the people that had left him behind made him less likely to open up to others. Elena and Rude had been the few he could open up to, since both of them had stayed. "But Sephiroth seems to want to make my job easier here, so why not. We can do this, but it's going to take a coupl'a miracles. And I think one of 'em is going to be those two turnin' on each other. Ganondorf's probably one of the few people that could take Sephiroth one on one and maybe win. We need to get people to keep eyes on both of 'em. That's not gonna be so easy after what happened last year."
A moment's pause, and his face fell a little more. There weren't really any heroes on Gaia. Even Barrat Wallace's AVALANCHE, whose goals had been considered honorable by some people, had their own share of innocents in the cross fire. "Something you should understand, Diar. The Turks were never heroes. We were the people in the shadows."
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"Besides, my partner doesn't always play fair either. It is the way of the world now. Just don't ask me to take blatantly dishonorable actions and we will be fine. There are others who can do those actions much better than I anyway."
There had been a time when Diarmuid would not have been able to stand for those he worked with using such dishonorable actions even if it wasn't him himself doing it. It was back when he first had arrived here and still saw things in black and white and right and wrong. He's changed a lot since then.
Gray is sometimes a good place to be.
"I have twice sworn my life to men who betrayed me to my death for their own gains. Believe me when I say I understand if you are not ready to trust me yet as I am fighting trust issues of my own because of those betrayals," Diarmuid gives Reno a sincere and open look. "If there is something I can do to prove myself to you--to put you more at ease--all you need to do is ask and I will do it. You need not even ask me now. Just whenever you are ready. "
"You say that you think Ganondorf is one of the few who could defeat Sephiroth. Who are the others? Would any of them be easier to work with than Ganondorf?"
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"Eh, I'm not big on betrayal." Would that count? Technically, they all had betrayed someone at some point, whether it was Veld or the company that had started them. "The Turks would sooner cut off our own thumbs than go rogue on each other." He waved at the painting of the Shinra Tower, as an example. "We got in trouble with the company before because our commander had to leave, and we violated orders to kill him. Complicated story. So don't worry about that. I'm not gonna ask ya to swear your life. It'd be pretty meaningless."
There's something concerning about how open Diarmuid is though, enough that Reno's taking a step back mentally and considering his words again. Either the man was at the end of his rope, like Reno, or he honestly had nothing to lose. Both versions were a little dangerous in different ways. "Don't be so quick to take me up on this. First, we got Shion's problem to take care of. We'll leave it there for now."
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To be honest, the fact that Reno and the Turks were willing to fight for their leader like that wins them a lot of points with Diarmuid. It is a loyalty he understands completely. He only hopes that their leader realizes just how lucky he is to have such warriors at his side.
"Now, did you say that Ganondorf has a counsel? And you were on it at one point?" Surprise crosses Diarmuid's face, "I should not be surprised he has one all things considered. It explains a few things I have been told in the past. I bet he wanted Ryoji in that group...probably wanted to find a way to control Nyx..." His voice softens and then drops off completely as he thinks over a few things. Finally, Diarmuid shakes his head and returns his attention to Reno.
"Sorry, I should speak to my son. I believe Ganondorf might have been trying to recruit him into that counsel and that is what lead to their altercation. Obviously, he is no longer on the counsel, but he might be able to give us some more up-to-date information. Any little bit of help, right?"
"Speaking of Shion, is there anything else you think I should know that might aid me when I teach him?"
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"No, nothin' that I can think of right now, aside from..." Trailing off, he realized then that everything was pretty much pulling into each other, staring from that one time he had stepped foot in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shion's berserking, Xion's abandonment issues, the brainwashing and everything that's led to here and now. "...Actually, yeah. Ganondorf has the ability to mind control people. Last year he caught me with one spell and... end result was Shion had to kill me to get out of it. He's been having really bad episodes since. ...I think it's because he thinks he betrayed me."
For the first time in their conversation, his expression softened to something more like worry. Maybe a touch of sadness. It was his own damn fault for being so careless. What had happened to Xion, and then Shion. "I felt like I couldn't trust the people I needed to... tried to do it alone, and I got 'em all hurt."
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"I got my brother killed once because I thought that I could do everything myself--that I didn't need others to help me," Diarmuid looks out at the paintings in the room and winces when his eyes land on one of the circus floor and the clowns using his and Cu Chulainn's broken and bloodied bodies as props for their show. After staring at the picture for a moment, he tears his eyes away and looks back at Reno, his expression sincere, "Learning that you need others is not easy. Especially if you feel your mistakes have hurt them. I am sorry you had to learn that in such a painful way. And Shion..." Diarmuid sighs and shakes his head, "He would think he betrayed you, yes. He doesn't have the mindset of a warrior like we do, and so doesn't understand that sometimes death is a better option. It is a release even if it is a terrible one."
"From what I have noticed so far, Shion usually prefers to ignore and push away his emotions. Is this an accurate observation? I have only talked to him a few times and none of those times were what could be called high-stress situations. How does he handle his emotions usually aside from the berserker moments?" Reno's words are causing a plan to pull together in Diarmuid's mind, but he has to make sure that he isn't assuming something incorrect. If he does, there is a good chance he might just make things worse for Shion and that is an unacceptable outcome.
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"Shion... keeps his heart on his sleeve. You can tell him something kinda unpleasant and he'll go into this weird mode where he starts shaking and his brain starts shutting down so he doesn't have to think. I think I told him to start counting when that happens to calm down, but it doesn't always work with him. I'd say he gets over emotional. There was one time last year he refused point blank to leave the library until he read all the books. I had to pick 'em up and drop him in the pool to snap him out of it. I guess it could be accurate if ya see it as him shunting his emotions off but they end up takin' over, but I don't have trainin' in this kinda thing beyond basic psych, and that was a long time ago. I slept through the class..."
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This is something Diarmuid knows far too well. He also wears his emotions too close to the surface most of the time.
"How badly will he react to discussion of emotions like betrayal? Will it lead to him directly berserking? I will not speak of specifics, of course, but considering the strength of the emotion and his experiences, it is one will will have to talk about sooner than later. Especially since you said things got much worse after what happened with Ganondorf."
Diarmuid is by no means psychologist. The fact that Reno even slept through a pysch class gives him more training in the topic than Diarmuid has, but what Diarmuid does have is experience working on his own problems and those of his friends and family. He has the experience of seeing men at their best and their worst in battle.
However, if experience is better than even limited training in this case is still something that remains to be seen.
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He was starting to feel useless. He couldn't protect anyone. Training wasn't enough and his own experiences in battle were skewed. Psychology wasn't the same everywhere, and on Gaia it could be even more skewed because of the number of people who had been enhanced for battle. Mako showers, genetic modification, who knows what else the scientists had cooked up. All of it had an affect on the mind.
"Ya just say one thing real quiet, like mention the red spiral galaxy things, and he'll go quiet and panicky."
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"What does that have to do with...never mind," He shakes his head, "I am really going to need your help if he decides to bolt. It is obvious he is going to worry a great deal hurting someone again, but running will get him nowhere. He has to face these things if he wants to learn to control the emotions caused by them."
"Are there any other words or phrases that affect him...oddly?"
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"Shion isn't likely to bolt so much as turn everythin' ya say into something that he'll blame himself for. I've made mistakes and apologized and he's used some excuse to turn it into somethin' about his failings. Get's kinda annoying at times because it's real hard living things down with the kid. My son...." He trailed off, frowning just slightly. That had been the first? Third? One of the few times he had called Shion his son. It felt strange. Shion and Xion. Both of them really did feel like family, but being so open about it was still... strange. "My son's not the easiest person to apologize to."
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Diarmuid smiles for real then. There is something comforting in knowing that there are others who have opened their hearts like he has here. Even with the risks and the dangers.
"I will do my best to avoid mentioning Ganondorf, but I am afraid that at some point we will have to deal with it. Hopefully, we will be able to make some progress by then so that he will not react so badly, but there are no guarantees especially considering what terrible things are linked to him."
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He hadn't been here that long, but what Reno saw, he hadn't liked much. Hell, Shion had even argued with him after the encounter. The vehemence had surprised the Turk, but what could he do when he didn't have anything to say that could help? "Shion thinks he has to be a person Rat would approve of, but meeting the guy makes me think Rat'd never approve of anything Shion did. I don't think he knew what he was doin' to Shion. Least, I hope he didn't." The other option wasn't too pleasant to think about.
"If ya think he's doing something, he probably is. His tells aren't too hard to pick up. I can tell ya right now, you got a better insight into him than me. We think too different; I can't even get why he'd think he needed to be someone's perfect idea. Bein' honest, it sounds stupid."
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He closes his eyes a moment. Reno's right. Diarmuid does have better insight if only because his own mindset is so similar. He just hopes that closeness doesn't end up causing more problems than it solves.
"While that mindset can lead to beautiful things, it can also far too easily be abused and twisted by others. It sounds to me like that is exactly what Rat was doing," Diarmuid opens his eyes and gives Reno a confident look. "Fortunately, Shion met you and he met me. I have seen what happens when one with such a mindset is used by another. I have no intention of letting it happen again. You have my word. We will find a way to deal with those self-worth issues so that his true self and bravery can shine through. It is the only way he can ever hope to control himself."
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Elena being gone had hurt so much.A blank expression settled on Reno's features, being far away and in another time. Everybody left eventually. Even Elena would leave. Shion, Xion, the others...
"Think I prefer my way, no offense. I got enough weak points... but you're right, Shion's gonna need both of us. I'll be stickin' around the gym that day. If ya need Elena down there too or somethin' special for the session, I got a mailbox now, so just shoot somethin' off."
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"Good. I am glad you will be staying. I think having one who thinks like him and one who doesn't there to help will be for the best. If there is anything I think of, I will be sure to let you know, though feel free to bring anything or anyone who you think may be of assistance. At some point, I will probably ask my brother to come, but that will be later once we get a good foundation set. My brother...doesn't do the basics of anything well. It's probably why he never completely learned to control himself," Diarmuid holds out a hand to Reno. "Until Monday, then?"
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Giving Diarmuid a broken smile, he nodded and held out his hand to clasp the other man's. "Until then. Got to get through a few more days."
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