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Characters: Reno, papers, and you
Setting: Floor 3, Floor 88, Staircase between Floors 96 to 87
Format: Either or
Summary:
Writing up info dump from the party log and Reno is head desking because what is paperwork
Diarmuid and Reno discuss Things over a game of pool
On the Staircase, trying to come up with a viable plan to map the dangerous Upper Levels
Warnings: TBA

Monday, Nov 11, Morning, 0900
Floor 3 Library

The library was quiet this morning, or at least quiet enough that Reno was able to focus and concentrate on the epic, gruelling task he had set before him. A pile of papers sat on the table next to him, along with several sharpened pencils, and a few pens. The maps he had been working on over the past month and a half were nearby, layered neatly next to them. There were a lot that he had to redraw in a more permanent ink, and keeping the notes and symbols neat. Epic, because of how large it was, gruelling because... well, gawddamit, it was paperwork. If Veld or Tseng were here, though, he could just imagine what they would say if he slacked off on the neatness and legibility of any of these things...

The thought made him pause, slightly depressed. He had been here so long, and admittedly, grew up a little, but even now he wished one of them would show up. Even for a small time. Just long enough to say "Good work," or "Nice Job," maybe even "I'm proud of you." Psh, that was too weak, though. He couldn't ask for that, couldn't even tell Elena or the kids. They were depending on him. With a visible shake, he turned his attention back to the task.

Even after all this time of writing up reports, dossiers, files, and most recently, maps, Reno still hated paperwork, and made a face at the scrawled lines he had done so far. This wasn't why he joined the Turks, it was because of the action! The romantic idea of being a dashing, cunning intelligence agent, just like all those shows on SINTV when he was growing up! Of course, when he actually got into it, the reality was way darker and more painful than he thought it'd be, but it still was a hell of a lot more interesting than paperwork. True, Tower sometimes had too much action for his comfort, but hey..

Sighing, he kept staring at the paper in front of him, wishing it had been done already instead of just only half written. It would be so much easier if he had a computer, or a typewriter. Or anything. As it is, he was getting cramps in his hand. Maybe that would help! He dropped the pencil and stretched out his left hand back and forth, getting the flow of blood worked back into it. Keep going. You're the Chief now, y'gotta keep on.

Taking up the pencil again, he started jotting off another line, and paused. Crossing his eyes, he groaned and faceplanted into the table. "Where's Shion when y'need him..."

If anyone glances over his shoulder, they may see various papers on certain topics that were over heard during the party.

Tuesday, Nov 12, Afternoon
Floor 88

Stepping out into the smoky bar, Reno glanced around to make sure there weren't any monsters hiding out around. One couldn't be too careful with the floors that looked like they didn't see a lot of use, and Reno had a couple of bite marks over the years to prove it. Or three hundred. He forgot which.

Satisfied he wasn't going to get ambushed, he started racking up the pool balls, setting up for a game, just in case. Pool was something he missed from back home, and any chance to play it in a busy and hectic Tower life is pretty nice. If Diarmuid didn't know how, he'd just have to teach him. It'd be a great distraction while they had that... chat.

Smoky atmosphere, dark interior, impending chats of dubious nature he wasn't sure he wanted to actually talk about, and Elena potentially getting into trouble somewhere in the Tower. All he needed was a pack of cigarettes, a bunch of cheap booze, and a deck of cards and it would be a vacation at the Turtle's Paradise.

Sunday, Nov 17, Mid Morning, 1000
Staircase, between Floors 97 to 87

Today, Reno was trying to approach the Upper Floors to map them. Whispers and rumors, and hell, just outright observation told him that they tended to be on the more dangerous side of the Tower. One look at the giant monsters on Floor 97, and he backtracked hard, telling himself he... should probably come back with someone in tow, because it looked like a struggle even to get a vague sense of the floor and how it was constructed. Last time he was up here scoping out the floors, he didn't remember the monsters being so gigantic.

Cussing to himself, he sat down on the staircase just between 96 and 97 and glared off into space, taking a moment to think before he went off and got into trouble. Who the hell would he ask that had the skills and the survival sense enough to help out? Maybe Riku, he was a good one, and he knew when and where to dodge if something happened. Plus, that corridor thing wouldn't hurt. Or maybe Diarmuid? Elena?

Maybe it was just getting harder to think because of the stress, he should just head down to the sauna floor and take a break. Sounded like fun, but he didn't feel particularly eager to get moving again. When he did, he'd only go a few more floors and then pause and look out over the floors from the staircase. He'd be an obstruction for a while with his rolled up unfinished maps.

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Oh.

Locking his eyes on Diarmuid's gold ones, it turned sharp and hard. Straightening up and walking forward, his feet skittered the splinters across the floor, even dragging one all the way with him to stand in front of the other man.

Eye for eye and matched fairly well, Reno reached out to grab the front of Diarmuid's shirt- an action he used many times in the seedy underbelly of the slums under Midgar to intimidate. It's mostly out of habit that he leans forward, and would draw Dia closer as well if he didn't back away. Some part of him is enjoying this, using the old methods to gather information people would otherwise not want to part with...

"And just exactly what..." he hissed, taking a stance firm and steady, just in case, "rumors did you hear? What happened to my wife?"

Diarmuid has to hand it to Reno. The red-head does have the intimating stare and posture down to perfection. Unfortunately, Diarmuid himself is used to staring down armies, he's used to staring down monsters and giants, and he's stared down every member of the Fianna, a band of the greatest heroes to ever walk Ireland's shores...

...one man's intimidating look isn't going to work on him, and though he does allow Reno to pull him down, it's not out of fear, but respect. Diarmuid has to actually hold back a bit of a grin at the change in the red-head. This is more like the Reno he's come to know during the last few weeks.

In all honesty, Diarmuid is torn right now. He wants to tell Reno what he knows because he has a feeling it will make the man feel better, but at the same time, the information is so vague. What if the person the rumors are referring to isn't Elena at all but some other unfortunate who ran into Sephiroth during that time?

He can't help but suddenly be glad that either Kariya was hit by something coming very different than Sephiroth or that he just didn't have the strength to take things that far with Diarmuid. While not suffering from the effects of the tapes himself, Diarmuid had been in a weakened mental state, more often than not becoming trapped in the memories of his own past as a way to escape the present. He wouldn't have been able to defend himself very well had Kariya turned violent.

"Hell. Do you really think that man could give something other than that?" Diarmuid's gaze is steady, though edged, even if his voice is soft. "Information gathering is what you do, Reno. What I am about to tell you is third or fourth hand at best. Understand that before I continue," he pauses then, gaze softening slightly. "They say he was seen cuddling and carrying around a woman's body parts at different times during the week. If he was carrying her heart around, it was...without the rest of her body..."

Slowly, his fingers relaxed his grip on Diarmuid's clothes, finally dropping his arm to his side. The stare faded, replaced by a dull look and his skin paled; he actually looked like he was about to be sick.

The change in posture was gradual, too, his shoulders slumping with a weight that hadn't existed before, either. "She... didn't mention that. I knew she was... she was holdin' something back but..."

Turning away, he leaned against the pool table, rubbing his face in an attempt to relieve the stress he felt. "She must'a known something more than... what she said. I didn't even believe her because of-" He broke off and started cussing under his breath, sick, but at the same time oddly relieved that it wasn't what he'd thought all this time. It ate at him, poisoning his thoughts and will the more he remembered, the more he thought about it.

"Thanks... for tellin' me. It sounds like... like that might've been her. He killed Shion just because, before... makes sense he would do something like that." It's so easy to believe, too, but he wondered if it would help completely, the damage was far greater than he really wanted to think about. "I don't even know... what I'm doin' here. I'm an idiot, thinkin' love is all ya needed."

"She probably didn't want to see you like I am seeing you now. Weighed down. Disturbed. Worried. Sick inside," Diarmuid's voice is calm again, his posture supportive as he leans against the table near where Reno is standing. "It's a game those in love play, even when they are suppose to be equal partners and sharing everything, all they think about is being sure the other isn't worried about them or upset because of them. Unfortunately, it is easy to forget during that little dance that the other person is only human and may come to the wrong conclusions no matter what they want to believe. Sadly, our hearts and our heads are fated to never have clear communication, I swear."

"When I first heard the rumor, I was in a bad place. It was my second month in the Tower and I was retreating into my memories because I could not take everything that was being thrown at me. It was all too different and too harsh. That is why when I heard it, I merely filed his name away as someone I needed to avoid, and thanked whoever was watching out for me that the one who became infatuated with me did not take it as far as Sephiroth did. However, if I had taken notice back then, might I have been able to keep him from doing what he did later to Ryoji? To Tohko or to Yukiko? There is no way for me to know just as there is no way for you to know what might have happened if you had been here instead of back on your world, if you had asked more questions, if you had not doubted. For now, just take this information and move forward. Talk to her. Find a way beyond this divide."

He leans a little closer to Reno, trying to catch a glimpse of the red-head's eyes, "Love might not be all we need, but it is a big part of what makes us strong and it, like us, will not stop fighting unless we give up on it. I might only be coming to know you now, but something I can tell already you definitely aren't is a quitter."

Diarmuid's words brought back memories again. Fighting Cloud and running. The three of them, Tseng, Rude, and him saving Veld only to get caught and finally give in to ShinRa's demands. Turning back after letting Aerith escape again.

Slowly, he turned his head to allow him to see his eyes again, narrowed and rather red around the rims. "Don't think you know me."

But he was afraid, terribly afraid that the other man could be right, that he wasn't a quitter after all. Quitting is easy, he had tried it enough to know that much, but to keep going on, through all the pain and torture and mental agony that this place could deal out seemed like the worst choice of the two. That had him afraid. Even if they won and returned their worlds, and put everything back the way it was, would he wind up so broken he couldn't go back?

Again, Diarmuid unflinchingly returns Reno's gaze, "I tell you nothing you haven't told yourself. All you need to do is listen. If you were a quitter, you would have quit a long time ago. You wouldn't still be fighting to help Xion and Shion. You wouldn't be fighting to understand and fix things with your wife, and you certainly would not still be standing here listening to me talk." Diarmuid's voice and expression both soften slightly, "Listen to yourself now and learn. You are the only one who can decide your path from here on forward."

Diarmuid holds Reno's gaze for a few moments long, before turning to retrieve his stick from the pool table, "I have nothing else to say. Come and finish showing me this game. Let your mind sort through and process what we have just talked about on its own for a while. Unless..." a friendly smile crosses his face, 'you would rather a spar so you can try and beat my loud mouth into submission instead."

Reno watched as the man turned, his face relaxing into a neutral, vaguely unhappy expression. The soft words were of no comfort, the problem had been around before they knew each other, and they were unsettling and perceptive of things he knew were true but nonetheless did not want to acknowledge.

Staring at the stick, then Diarmuid for a long time, Reno weighed the options. Fighting him would let off a lot of pent up rage and anger, but there was a slowly creeping exhaustion fading in as the anger faded out, and his shoulders slouched even more as if a weight had been added. He was tempted, though, very much so by the chance to finally let loose for once instead of holding back. The other being the man's incessant need to pry into what was private and personal. Much of what Diarmuid had said added to the anger.

Going over to the wall where the sticks rested, Reno's feet seemed to drag against the floor. Picking one up, he felt it in his hand for a moment before deciding to go with the one next to it. It felt well balanced and easy to use, a perfect striker for the cue ball. Turning on his heel, he made his way back to the table and looked at the ball formation, walking around before reaching one point to take a shot from.

He didn't answer Diarmuid; if the guy is so great at reading people and their body language, he didn't really have to.

Diarmuid isn't sure if he is disappointed or relieved that the other man decides not to take the sparring option. On one hand, it would let Reno get out some of that anger and also let him get a few hits on someone who had, perhaps, pushed too far. On the other hand, it could easily get out of control and end up with one of them hurt. Later would probably be a better time.

"The offer remains open. Any time you might want to take it up," Diarmuid falls silent after that, just watching Reno play. At the same time, his mind is working through all that has just been said as he assumes Reno is probably also doing. He's honestly not sure what to think right now. This...was not what he had expected when he had come up here to meet Reno, but he can't find himself being upset about that. Even if it was unexpected, he can't help but hope it will help Reno. No matter if they don't know each other that well, there is part of Diarmuid that already trusts the other man and has trusted him ever since that first meeting. He can't really explain why that is, though he would really like to know why.

Maybe it's something to do with the fact they both have families they will do anything to protect here?

The silence stretches for a while before Diarmuid finally breaks it, "Do you still feel like talking about Sephiroth or would you rather grill me on some personal things in return?"

Edited (Of course, a new idea hits just as I hit post...) 2013-11-24 23:08 (UTC)

Bent over, aiming the cue ball for a sure two ball sinking shot, Reno looked up and broke his concentration. That also was tempting, but as much as he loved gossip, the idea left a sour taste in his mouth like the lemons that had haunted him on Halloween.

The corners of his mouth pinched together in memory of the flavor. "In time. What do ya need to know about Sephiroth?"

Holding his stick steady, and not taking his eyes off Diarmuid, he took the shot and listened as one ball sunk into a pocket, and the other bounce off the edge, being just slightly too far over. Taking that as a sign to stop, he went back to lean against the wall. "I've never gone up against him in hand to hand, so all I can tell ya is how he fought back when he was sane... and the stuff about his background."

"As with the other, the offer remains open." It's an apology of sorts. Just because Diarmuid is well versed in in tough love--or perhaps tough friendship would be more appropriate here--doesn't mean he doesn't feel guilty about having to do it. Especially when it is clear how very much it hurts the other person.

"I should care more about his background, but right now I am more interested in what you can tell me about his fighting tactics. It doesn't matter if you haven't fought him personally or not. Observation is just as valid a way to learn as any other," Diarmuid pauses a moment to think on something before continuing. "I have been told about materia if that helps you any and I know he has access to some. I can't remember if I mentioned it to you or not, but I have talked a few times to the younger version of him that is in the Tower. It is too bad that he and I never did get to go hunting together. That firsthand experience would have proven very valuable now..."

"Mm." Reno acknowledged it, and he did appreciate the attempt, but he wasn't feeling overly chatty just then. It was easier to move on to another topic, though it wasn't as happy as he would've liked. "His sword. He uses the full length to advantage. Materia might be problematic because I don't know what he's got on him. Spells to watch out for might be Comet, Flare, anything ending in 'aga'... uh, time spells. And since he's a SOLDIER, he's fast."

Pausing, he examined the pool table for a minute, trying to bring his shattered thoughts together to give his best summary of what he remembered. The problem was the last time he had seen the man in real action was over five years ago...

"I wasn't with the others when they saw it, but Rude showed me a picture of a Midgar Zolom that had gotten spiked on the end of a dead tree." His eyes flick over to Diarmuid for a moment. "Zoloms are snakes. Giant snakes. Encountering one that could wrap a small house up wasn't all that uncommon... they'd eat chocobos whole if they caught any. And they got a nasty spell in store if you attack one. The kinda power that it took doin' that to one of those things..." Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, almost succeeding in forgetting the earlier talk. "He will try slashin' multiple people in one swing. He'll jump around, cast magic. Sorry I can't be more clear, ya might get more out of Cid. Me and Rude tried to catch up to him when he was rampaging across the Planet but... never got up to it."

"So he is more of a Lancer than a Saber..." Diarmuid's words are spoken more to himself than to Reno. He steps back away from the pool table and starts to unconsciously twirl the stick as he would his spear. It's no attempt to show off, instead, it is merely a familiar action to help him think.

"If there is anything I know about, it's fighting with a weapon of length. My brother knows this too. However, I'm not foolish enough to think Sephiroth's style will be that easy to pin down. Besides, it is likely to have changed since he arrived here. No trained warrior doesn't begin to adapt themselves to their environment as soon as they can. And then there is the magic," he frowns. "I have no magical skills of my own. Many of us there will have magical resistances, but that is not the same..."

Hopefully, the magic side of things Waver can handle.

Diarmuid stops twirling the stick, planting it against his foot before giving Reno a nod, "It might not be a lot, but it is better than nothing. Who is this Cid you speak of? I am not familiar with anyone by that name."

"Yeah, that's true. Sephiroth had been, uh, well, genius with tactics, strategy and fighting. 'S why he rose in the ranks so fast." Reno's tone was acidic and bitter, hinting at things that lurked behind his shaky composure that were far deeper and older than what he had shared about Elena. "SOLDIERs got the best of everything, part of that was adaptability. But hell, even my style's changed."

Pulling at his shirt, he shrugged at Diarmuid's next question. "Cid Highwind. Colleague of Cloud's. He was with the others when they took down Sephiroth during the Meteor incident. I keep forgettin' that guy's here. He'd have more first hand knowledge of how Sephiorth fights, if ya could track him down."

Edited 2013-12-04 05:23 (UTC)

Diarmuid raises an eyebrow at Reno, not missing at all the bitterness in the man's tone of voice, "You could say I am something of a strategic master myself. You kind of have to be to survive fighting whole armies by yourself. I even have a talent that is based on that." He grins for a moment, tapping at his head, before his expression falls, "But that talent has been going haywire lately. There is too much unknown in this place and the battle is so different here than any other I have faced. I dare not depend on it right now. It is why I am trying to get as much help as I can."

"Thank you for the information about Cid. I will see what I can do to track him down. You are right. It sounds like speaking to him would be very helpful, and I don't think you will argue with me when I say that we can use all the help we can get."

"No problem." It was a long story involving many incidences that the Turks had in hand only to be told to turn it over to SOLDIER, nothing personal there, nope. Reno shifted uneasily on his feet, as if the conversation seemed about done. "Look. Diarmuid... I'd appreciate it if ya never let what happened back there get out."

"I may be many things, Reno, but I am not a gossip. What you said was said in faith and it will be kept in that same faith," Diarmuid bows his head slightly, a serious look on his face. "Besides, it is not my place to speak of these things to her. It is yours, and I hope that you will do just that."

That seemed to ruffle him, making his hair stand on end and even his few spikes left seemed to stiffen. Shifting his weight, Reno took in a long, slow breath to quiet himself down again and glanced down at the floor, leaning on the wall. "No offense meant, Diarmuid, you're right, but what I do or don't discuss with my wife ain't your business either." His tone was firm, brokering no extra discussion on it. "What are ya planning to do with Sephiroth?"

Diarmuid doesn't let Reno's tone bother him, "It is just advice, as the rest of my words are. Take it as you wish or don't. It is your choice. As for Sephiroth," he pauses for a moment in thought before continuing, "we will fight. There is no question of that. I would like to speak with him, but I doubt that will happen. There has to be something...something that will make him realize he cannot just do whatever he wishes. Words or actions, one must be the way. I will not stop until I find whichever one it is."

Slowly straightening up, Reno turned to Diarmuid and locked eyes with the man, taking a step forward. Cloud, and Reeve, and Cid, and all the others had tried the same during those disastrous months after Sephiroth's awakening. For the Turk, the Tower did not have a monopoly on horror. There had been more than enough in the universes they left behind.

"What makes you think it's possible, when he ignored the words of an entire planet for his own ends, Diarmuid? There's no reasoning with a madman. There's no making insanity return to reality. It believes what it wants, when it wants, and how it wants. You got to understand that. This isn't some game here, and if you make the wrong move, he is going to retaliate hard."

"If you think I look at this in any way like a game, you haven't been listening to me," Diarmuid's voice suddenly becomes more intense, though it doesn't raise in tone, "This is deadly serious. The lives of everyone who goes with me is in my hands. The life of everyone in this Tower might very well be as well. Something must be done. This might not be the best time or the best plan, but if we don't do something now we might not get another chance. He is planning something. I don't know if this will be enough to stop it--probably not--but it will hopefully buy us time if nothing else. It is better than nothing which is what I have been doing for too long."

"And I'm serious when I say this again. Moving this soon, before ya find out what he's up to, is going to shaft everybody. We'll never get to figure out what he's planning and he is going to go deep underground and probably get Ganondorf to help. You'll get all of 'em killed if you're not careful and plan the whole thing out. I'm askin' ya, let my people figure this out before you go. It's what we do." Reno's arms were folded, his back straight and he stood against Diarmuid's gaze, stubbornly refusing to back down on this. "Don't let passion get in the way of the job, Diarmuid. It's an overemotional wreck you're beggin' for."

"It must be nice to be able to turn off your emotions. I used to be able to do it," Diarmuid holds Reno's gaze for a few seconds before moving away from the man and starting to unconsciously twirl his pool stick as if it were a spear again. "Of course, that was back before I knew what rage and hate were. Now, I know them and don't know how to shut them off no matter how hard I try. It is part of the reason I waited as long as I did before, but I can't keep waiting."

He spins the stick down, its end cracking against the floor. After that, Diarmuid looks back to meet Reno's eyes again, "I mean no insult to you or your network, but I highly doubt you will be able to find out anything more than me and mine have. You aren't the only one who can gather information in this place, you know. For some of us, it's not our job, but our way of life."

The words echoed in Reno's head, bringing something back he had said to Shion a long time ago. Don't you even know how to hate, kid.

Maybe this is how Diarmuid seemed to understand Reno so well, or how he could seem to understand the other man as well. They didn't seem so different, but their ideals seemed at odds. He could get over that.

Walking toward Diarmuid, he reached out to grab Diarmuid's shoulder in camaraderie. "We don't really make a distinction like that. It doesn't change that you're bein' stupid, but I'm wishin' you luck."

"Sometimes you have to be stupid if you want to get anything done," Diarmuid laughs sadly, eyes becoming distant. "I used to yell at the men in the Fianna when they gave me that excuse, but now...maybe now I understand a little better how they felt when they did what they did. There comes a time when you can't plan anymore even if you should. You just have to do it."

He looks up at Reno, a grateful look in his eyes, "For what it's worth, this fool is thankful for your help."

"I think things are gettin' done, Diar, but I guess you gotta do what you gotta do. That man has fucked over my family, too." It seemed he'd made a friend without really trying here, just out of circumstance and mutual enemies... "You want to finish our game?"

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