towerofanimus | (no subject)

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(no subject)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Eh... Chocobos are here in the Tower... if ya see a large yellow bird that looks injured, yeah, that's them. Marlboros are these giant, sort of tentacle things. They got a face, with a mouth of razor sharp teeth, and the rest of their head is nothing but waving tentacles. If they spit at or breathe on ya, the venom can instantly blind and paralyze ya, as well as prevent you from speaking. There's a lot of other effects it's got, but it's a pretty nasty thing to stumble on. Mogs are... well they're white, and look sorta like cats. Remember my poker deck? One of the suits are mogs. Or moogles. Either works." The explanation is quick, falling back into step behind Diarmuid. If he wants to think his father was a god, that's all right. There's no real way of telling, but at least he's not trying to summon meteors or anything.

"Cait Sith was a black cat, it walked upright, and Reeve could talk through it. For some reason he put a little red cape on it and a gold crown. Used it for a lot of stealth missions where it was too dangerous for us. The guy could'a been a Turk himself, 'cept he couldn't fight, and sort of had this big crisis of loyalty at one point."

They were coming closer to the floor Reno had mentioned, and finally he stopped when he finished. "Hey, we're here."

It looked pretty innocuous... except for the fairy rings scattered across the meadow. Reno obviously didn't recognize that the mushrooms weren't what they appeared to be when he went wandering off into the grass.

Diarmuid listens closely as Reno explains, nodding as he mentions the chocobos. Now that he has the description to go with the name, he is sure he has run into some of them, though from the description that Reno gives of the marlboros it would make more sense for them to be here than a silly bird no matter now large.

"What is stealthy about a black robot cat with a crown and a red cape? You might as well send in one of those marlboros-- Whoa...wait! Stop!" As soon as Diarmuid spies one of those rings, he reaches out to pull Reno to a stop--harshly. The pull might be a little painful considering Diarmuid's enhanced strength, but better a little pain than trespassing, even accidentally, into the land of the Fae.

"Look," he points to one of the rings. "While this floor is quiet, if we drink here, we must beware the rings. The land within them belongs not to the Tower nor to us nor to the Administrators, and those who do own it do not kindly welcome outsiders. I take it while you might have legends about fairy creatures on your world you don't have legends about fairy rings?"

"Eh?" Reno blinked at the rings, then at the hand, then shrugged. "What are ya talking about, they're just mushrooms." And he's off again, walking forward without a care in the world, about to just step on one of those mushrooms...

Sorry, Diarmuid, different worlds with different legends and sometimes parts of those legends didn't exist... not that Reno really knew much except of the Cetran stuff he picked up along the course of the job.

The second his foot touched the red mushroom, an angry buzzing sound swarmed the meadow, as if thousands of tiny voices spoke out in anger.

"No, Reno, don't! Listen--" Diarmuid reaches out desperately to stop the red head, but he is too late and all touching the other man at the time of contact with the ring manages to do is make sure the Fairies notice him as well and draw him into the magic. Dark magic. Familiar magic. Magic that prickles and crawls along his skin like an electric charge.

Immediately, Diarmuid drops to a knee, head bowed. When he speaks, his voice is soft, though hissing, "Bow you fool, lest they take our heads without even giving us a chance to negotiate!"

"Uh-" Reno didn't get much of a chance to argue when things that looked... well, the best he could describe it was as tiny people. Angry, tiny people with weird horns and wings and many different body parts. Some were not so tiny. Glancing over at Diarmuid, he spared a frown for the guy but did what he was told, feeling sort of stupid bowing to tiny little people that didn't look like they could hurt a fly. The grass was getting his clothes stained. "Now what?"

Diarmuid doesn't look at Reno nor does he answer the man's question. Instead, his head bows and his eyes are locked on the ground in front of him. He knows very well that the appearance of the fairies is just another trick in their books. How many people have fallen prey to them because they have been fooled by their looks?

"You have my most sincere apologies, Lords and Ladies," Diarmuid's voice is soft and respectful. "My friend is from another realm. He meant no disrespect nor did--"

"You know better. Oh, but Oathbreakers should not be counted on for anything, should they? It would be a fool's action." It's an odd duality. The Fairy's voice is both very normal and frighteningly unreal. She steps away from the pack and her appearance mimics her voice. On a quick glance, she seems to be what one would usually call a pixie, but looking closer reveals pointed teeth, claws and bloodied wings. Golden eyes shift from Diarmuid to Reno before she speaks again, "Keep your wife far from this one, Outsider. Lest, he steal her away from you before you know it."

"My wife?" Reno was completely puzzled by that, sneaking another glance over at his companion. There was still a lot he didn't know about him, but the few things he did know based off of their last conversation was Diarmuid had some sort of problem in his own love life, but he had thought there was someone in the picture for him. "What's Diarmuid got to do with my wife?"

He really didn't mean insult to the strange creatures in front of them, but he probably should have known better and to keep his mouth shut.

There is no answer from Diarmuid, though if Reno looks close enough at him, the red-head will notice that he is scowling and grinding his knuckles into the ground. Tension fills his whole body. This is obviously something that upsets him.

"Mmm...methinks you should not ask me, but the Oathbreaker instead. It is his burden to bear," She smiles almost sweetly at Reno before stepping back toward her fellows again. "Our task here is not to relive the past, but to punish for the present." One small clawed hand gracefully raises and, as it does, a bloody light begins to swirl above it. It splits and then shoots out faster than either of them can react to, striking them each in the chest over their hearts.

As hard as he tries to be silent, a gasp of pain slips from between Diarmuid's gritted teeth. It feels like someone has just dug their claws into his heart and is pulling it apart bit by bit.

"We...have a right...to...negotiate..." The words fight their way out of Diarmuid's mouth. Though pained, they are confident even if their speaker is not. Back home they would have a chance to negotiate for their lives. He has no idea if those rules apply here in the Tower.

Negotiate... negotiate! That's something Reno was good at, but it got increasingly hard to think when that pain made him hiss through clenched teeth and slap a hand against his chest.

Wait, what were they negotiating for? The "punishment" the tiny woman spoke about?

"Diar... if they need..." Recompense, the word was recompense. Still, trying to force the words through his mouth was like trying to swallow a jawbreaker and get teeth pulled at the same time. "Payment, what 'bout my wine here..."

Pain flares in Diarmuid's chest preventing him from speaking. The Fairy smiles at him menacingly, as if she is telling him to remain quiet, and then turns her attention to Reno.

"In this case, the words the Oathbreaker speaks are true. You do have the right to negotiate...if we allow it," the light over her hand flares for a moment and Reno will find it easier to speak, though the pain in Diarmuid's chest seems to double finally forcing a hiss of pain from his mouth.

"Speak quickly. He bares your pain so that you may not waste our time stuttering. You have something you wish to offer, Outsider? Something worth enough that it may sway us into sparing your lives?"

"I got alcohol," Reno decided to take the creature at her word, because even if these things were AI, or some sort of illusion induced hallucination, the pain felt very, very real. "I call it berry wine but it's strong." He reached into one of the ammunition belts he had taken off of his Raven uniform and used to store things when he was moving about the Tower in, pulling out a bottle of his homemade brew. Reaching into a bag at his side he kept food in, he pulled out another, slightly smaller one. "Made it myself. Take it; we didn't mean to barge in on ya."

While Diarmuid still cannot speak through the pain, he manages to nod slightly in Reno's direction, approval pushing passed the pain in his eyes for a moment. Had he been given the chance, he would have offered the alcohol. The Fae of his homeland were notorious lovers of drink of all kinds and it seems from the twittering and whispers that break out amongst the Fairies at Reno's offer, the ones here are no different.

"It must be of high quality indeed if you offer it in exchange for your lives," the Fairy moves closer to Reno, smiling sweetly. However, if he makes the mistake of meeting her eyes as she speaks, it will feel like that blood stained claw of hers digs deep down into his soul, "You think highly of your skill, don't you?"

He did, not afraid to make eye contact even with an intimidating tiny woman who seemed to be able to kill them with a blink of her eye, if she chose. The feeling was grossly uncomfortable, but he tried to bear with it.

"Uh..." He had the feeling to be humble here, that feeling still piercing around in there. "No... I'm not really much at it and my equipment is crap, just that I've had practice. Make it to suit my tastes, y'know?" Getting the distinct impression he was failing here, he gave a nervous laugh.

She continues to stare into his eyes, silent for a moment before breaking out into peals of laughter, the sound like bunches of bells on the reins of horses dragging the dead to the grave.

"Mortals. You are such fools no matter what world you come from." There is a flicker of magic and the bottles disappear, reappearing a moment later near the group of fairies, "But this is not nearly enough to buy both of your lives. Mayhap it will buy the freedom of the lesser of you. Tell me, Outsider, which of you would that be?"

Reno instantly broke into a sweat, thinking the question over. How the hell could he even begin to answer that? It was a set up, that much was for sure. If he said himself, being humble, it would get him off but it would trap Diarmuid in whatever hell they had planned. If he said Diarmuid, he'd be bringing himself up as better than the guy, and he wasn't sure that was true. Diarmuid had some sort of strange sense of idealism, a way of looking at the world that was far more upbeat than his own, and seemed to have... well, better morals wasn't quite the word he'd put to it.

Shaking his head, he sighed. "That ain't fair. I don't know the guy well enough but I'm not leaving without him and I'm pretty damn sure he would say the same thing. We go together or we don't."

Still unable to speak, all Diarmuid can do is nod his head in agreement. Despite the pain he is in, though, there is approval in his eyes. An approval that is, surprisingly enough, reflected in the eyes of the fairy. She makes a series of motions with her hands and the pain in both of their chests is suddenly gone.

Diarmuid actually gasps out loud as pain releases, prompting the pixie to giggle. In a flash of red light, she moves first to hover right in front of Diarmuid and then right in front of Reno, before flashing back to her spot on the ground as if she had not moved at all. When she speaks next, the words are not in the same language as she had been speaking before, but in one Diarmuid will vaguely recognize as being older than even the language he had hear the druids using as a child. However ancient the tongue though, for some reason they can hear the words clearly in their minds--the sound electric, cutting, and dark.

"For all the world to see,
Your inner nature revealed.
Wear all that you be,
In plan sight like a shield."

There is a flash of red light and both men are suddenly pushed outward away from the circle. Diarmuid lands flat on his back stunned and unable to move. It is only as the his breath finally begins to return that the pixie speaks one last time...

"Return not to this place. We do not forgive twice."

Blinking, Reno's first thought that went through his head was, "Well, that could'a been worse." The next one was "That wasn't even a good rhyme."

Pressing his hands against the grass, he slowly sat up with a groan and glanced over at Diarmuid. "Hey, bro, you all right?" The pain was fading already, almost a memory, but he could help but feel that... something wasn't quite right. His body felt off, like something was tingling where it shouldn't be tingling. Tickling even.

"What the hell was all that about?"

Diarmuid doesn't respond right away. Instead, he just lays there, on his back, staring up at the ceiling. On his head, though, some...things twitch. Funny, he doesn't seem to notice.

"We're alive. I can't believe we got out of that alive!" He finally turns his head toward Reno, eyes narrowing, the things on his head flicking harder. Could they be what they look like they are? "Next time when I tell you not to step on something, listen to me!"

"Hey! Don't look at me! I got us outta that! ....somehow!" The orange fluffy things that were waving back and worth behind Reno suddenly grew three times larger. On closer inspection, however, Reno... took a double take looking at Diarmuid's head. "Uh, Diar, you got... something on your head. It's moving."

"I have something on my head?" Diarmuid reaches up to see what Reno is talking about, but his hand stops short when he sees those...tails waving behind Reno. "Call me crazy....but I am pretty sure you didn't have fox tails or ears for that matter before we went in there!"

"Wh-" Turning around, he spots the orange balls of fluff... and screams. The ears on his head flicked back in distress, and he grabbed about two of the tails and yanked. The pain spread along his backside, and he yelped.

"Shiva's tits! What the hell did they do to us? I'm a fox boy!"

The scream makes Diarmuid's own brown puppy dog ears flatten against his head. When he feels the movement, he finally sits up, touching them tentatively. It is only after sitting up that he notices his own tail.

"For all the world to see, your inner nature revealed. Oh come on! I am not a dog!" Pouting? Why, yes, it seems Diarmuid is, "At least make me a wolf. Or a hawk! That is what everyone called me. Not a...floppy-eared puppy..."

Briefly staring, Reno fell quiet, partly from being stunned and the other part from what Diarmuid said. Animal parts were definitely not what Reno was expecting. This was part of their inner natures? Oh brother. Figured it would be something weird and animal like.

"Flop..." Okay. He can't help it. This is too... something. Something funny. Slowly, he started to laugh. "Got to say... it suits ya, bro."

"It does not! And what is so funny about floppy ears?" Diarmuid gives Reno what he hopes it a challenging look. It's pretty hard to do with puppy ears, though, "It's better than being a burning bush like you are, Papa Fox. How do you plan on hiding all those tails?"

"Papa Fox?!" Reno growled, but the tails seemed to have a mind of their own and swished wildly back and forth behind him. "I don't think you could hide that one behind ya either. I dunno, the puppy look just seems like you, y'know? So eager to please," he's pulling out all the stops here, "and bright, optimistic, oh and don't ya have that thing about loyalty? Sounds like a pup to me."