towerofanimus | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Characters: Reno, and you
Setting: Floor 76 - The Greenhouse, Jan 8th
Format: Either
Summary: Catch all for post-event things. Fall out goes further than battles won and battles lost.
Warnings: Mentions of a lot of things possibly in the future, tba (At least some blood)

A victory didn't mean they had won. It had taken years and a tower full of horrors for Reno to learn that. Everyone had died who had been involved. So many people that had trusted and fought for something they believed in, wiped out with barely a thought. People that trusted him fell because of he hadn't been good enough. At least, that's what he thought.

For days he had been avoiding people, even going to the hotel floor when he needed to sleep and have it mean something, so that's why he was able to stay out of his room for so long. His current haunt was the greenhouse, finding a strange comfort in the fake but poisonous plants that filled the place. He just, needed time to think, to go over everything in his head to make sure there had been nothing else he could do. But every time he did, he became convinced that there had been, if he had just protected them, some way, they would have made it.

He had failed them, and there was no forgiveness for that.

This day, he's sitting on a bench clear of plants, still wearing the same bloodstained clothes he had worn during the war. Arms wrapped around his middle and finger pulling at his lower lip, he thinks he's alone here. It isn't one of his usual haunts and nobody came here. A trip to the sauna had dealt with most of the dirt from the disaster, but his clothes were permanently stained with the blood of friend, enemy, and himself. It's fitting, metaphorically and literally, that he stayed bloodstained.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Since the disappearance of the plague doctors, Elena has been busy searching the Tower for Reno. She had come to learn that when things turned for the worse and plans ended up in failure, Reno liked to retreat into himself and into the Tower. She had pulled the Turks together and made a plan for each to work in pairs and search the floor in quadrants every day.

When a strategic search didn't appear to work, tactics changed and she encouraged the team to search places they would suspect to find Reno. Places he liked to frequent. Then work backwards to areas he would be less likely to be. Which had, eventually, brought Elena to the Greenhouse floor. She herself rarely came to the floor, having no need to visit or investigate. But with a missing husband and Director, she figured she ought to give it a shot.

And its that random shot in the dark that proves most fruitful. Elena had barely started her search of the floor when she finds him seated, bloodstained, curled around himself, with a distant expression on his face. She's hardly in a better state than he is, covered in a blood mix that is part plague doctor and part hers. The sleeve of her left arm is scrunched up over her elbow, the lower part of the arm wrapped in a splint and resting in a makeshift sling, and a large gash on her cheek is held closed by medical tape and covered by a large piece of gauze that's faintly pink in the center.]

....So this is where you've been hiding.

[Her tone isn't angry, in fact she sounds amused that he's done so well in playing an unannounced game of 'Hide and Seek'. But her expression doesn't match her voice, giving him a look of disapproving concern.]

You're not an easy man to find.

[Eyes flick up to watch her approach, impassive. It figures it would be Elena that finds him first, and her being the person he most of all wanted to avoid...

Sighing, he stretches his legs out and shakes his head, going without comment to the accusation. It's true, and intentional.]

You're a mess.

[And that is the first thing he says to her in... really, he's lost count of the days since he did see her last. Was it a week ago, or a few days?]

...What did you want, El?

So are you.

[Its not exactly how she thought he'd respond to her arrival. Then again, a part of her had wondered if she expected anything different. She stops a foot from where long legs finally ended with his feet, her good arm bending, putting her hand on her hip.]

You've had your time to be miserable and be by yourself, but now its time for you get up and get back to work. We have plenty to do and all the Turks have been searching the Tower for you the last few days. I think they'd feel a lot better knowing that you are doing all right, even if you have been avoiding us.

[Mumbling something incoherent, he starts rubbing the bridge of his nose absently, like it would stop the headache from forming. Before he answers, though, he stands up and towers over her, grabbing her good arm by the shoulder. He's glaring down at her with a cold gaze, and it's not Reno, her husband there. It's Reno the Turk, the same one that spoke to her that fated day in October, when he had told her of his plans.]

I'm not going back, Elena. It's over.

[She gives a slow, audible breath. A huff of irritation in his delay in response. Because she was tired from looking for him. Tired for going days and often nights searching for him. And she's not entirely in the mood for his non-nonchalant, dismissive attitude.

Brows furrow when he stands, his height forcing her to look up at him. The hand on her shoulder is, for a moment, allowed to hold her steady until she shakes it off, taking a step backwards.]

...The fuck you mean its over? We're not done here.

[And a heartbeat later comes a question she wasn't quite sure she'd ever have to ask. And when she does, its done so in a tone that is not only taken aback by the very idea, but its also pushing, testing, encouraging him forward instead of letting him flounder.]

Don't tell me you're giving up, Reno.

[Reno snorts softly before chuckling at the idea. The sound isn't at all amused, though it should have been, but cold and entirely mirthless.]

That's exactly what I'm saying, Elena. I failed. Not just fucked up a mission, but I failed colossally as Director. If Veld were here, he'd be putting a bullet through my head right now. Not that it does any GOOD.

[The last word is shouted, no, more like screamed. His throat feels a little raw after that, and it helps calm him down again.

Reno is losing it, all controls completely gone...]

They won. They always win. And I'm not fucking good enough to lead you or any of the others... that's why Tseng got made First and me Second. He's competent, he got things done, missions, plans... everything that man did was fucking genius. And Veld... He made the Turks what they are.

[Elena is quiet, letting him talk. Venting helped when emotions were high and clouded judgement. It also gave her plenty of time to assess the situation, emotional and mental state, and the make the proper adjustments to best respond to the situation.]

Reno. Tseng was made first because he had years on you and, more importantly, was groomed for the role. You came into this role with no experience, no training, and no support from a previous leader. It was a literal trial by fire and, lets be honest Reno, the odds are high that you're going to get burned a few times before you get the hang of it.

[Not that the feeling of failure was easy to swallow and endure. Knowing that the decisions that were made ended in the deaths of those who chose to help. It was the only benefit to the Tower that the deaths weren't permanent.

Keeping the distance that had been placed between them with her step back, Elena reaches out and rests her hand flat against the center of his chest. A simple, harmless touch that is meant to serve as a point of balance. Grounding.]

They haven't won yet. They've just shown us numerous ways that won't work. Which means that the list of ways that will work is dwindling. Every adversity, every failure, every heartache carries with it the seed on an equal or greater benefit. Eventually we will find a way and we will win. Remember old saying that tells us that 'success is stumbling from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm'?

But... [And its here she steps forward, hand still press against him. Despite the injuries, she's able to muster a aura of strength that stays firm, solid, unwavering.] ...If you need to rest, even just for a little bit, let me take over. I'll be the Acting Director for a while and lead the Turks.

Just...don't give up. You may not think so, but we need you. The Turks need you. And I need you.

[Slowly, Reno deflated, shoulders slumping, and he shoves his hands into his pockets. Just listening. Not looking at her. Not wincing when she pressed against his chest and aggravated the injuries there.

Instead of responding immediately, he looks away, at the floor, and pulls something out of his pocket- it's the hi-potion Diarmuid gave him, still intact.]

No... I'm not going to ask you to take that on. I just... don't want the rest of our time to be nothin' but failure. I need a little time...

[Slowly, he hands the potion to her, still not meeting her eyes, defeated.]

You need this more than me.

You don't have to ask if I'm already offering. And, you know what, I'm not just offering. I'm going to pull rank and take on those duties for a while while you take the time you need.

[Because body language told her lots of different things that she would have to sit back and think on. Reno had been Second and was damn good at it. Whether or not she was even being considered as a potential replacement for Tseng had not really been discussed, but she had been the Director's partner. Had been given a view into that side of their world. And if she could shoulder those responsibilities, even for a short time, while he collected himself...]

If you look at it, what we did wasn't an absolute failure. If we're able to learn anything from our failures, then we haven't really lost, have we?

[Oh. But this whole demure, 'not-gonna-look-at-you' schtick was not going to be allowed for very long. So she gives a push against his chest, a silent command for him to go backwards and take a seat again. The potion is ignored for the time being, attention focused on getting the man to sit and, eventually, look at her.]

I'm not so sure about that. You know just as well as I do that its the injuries we don't see that can be worse than the ones we can. C'mon, take a seat and let me look you over.

Agh! [The flash of pain blooming through his chest is enough to make him drop to his knees. Grimacing, Reno wraps his arms protectively around his side and looks up to shoot Elena a look of anger.]

Shiva's tits! [He's gasping.] If you're gonna look me over at least don't make 'em worse!

[If she hadn't done that, he would have told her she couldn't pull rank with him, but everything sort of turned into a blur of irritation. He can tell she's serious, though, and enough to wish that he could argue with her more effectively. As it is, he'll be lucky if she left him in peace now she knew he's injured.]

....

[There's a brief expression of surprise at his outburst, which is quickly replaced with an expression that is unamused, hinting on being indifferent to the injury. In fact, she looks completely deadpanned, giving a little audible huff.]

Oh you big baby. [Okay, she feels a little bad that he's actually having to gasp for air and she lets him see it with the slightest shift in the way she's watching him.] If you had told me you'd had a cracked rib, I wouldn't have pushed. And now that I know... [Why yes, Reno. You know what time it is.] Sit down and shirt off. Let me see what I'm workin' with.

[Leveling a glare at her, he sat back on the floor, not entirely trusting himself to make it to the bench without screaming or something. There's no arguing with her. Slowly, he unbuttoned the well worn, stained shirt, revealing a large purple bruise where Diarmuid's kick landed and some bruising over his ribs.]

If you'd known, you'd be doin' what you're doing right now. An' what about your arm?

[He's sounding so, so annoyed, Elena. Not even funny.]

[And that glare is easily returned, blinking slowly to give it extra emphasis. No. There would be no argument here. Though, she might argue over the fact that he sat on the floor and not the bench. Because it was easier to sit on the latter than the former with only one good arm.

She wobbles some, but manages to get to the floor without incident, sitting back on her lower legs in front of him. The bruise earns a low whistle and a frown.]

So then you ought to know now that whether you give me a fight or not, you'll end up in this position. [Right back at you, Reno. Because were you ever going to tell her about this injury? She suspects not.] The arm is fine. I started the realignment process on my own and ended up waking up with it like this. How'd you get this?

[Considering it's fresh and not old enough to be from the invasion, Reno pursues his lips and gives her a warning glare.]

I don't have anything broken. Yet. [INTENSE STARE.] Just flesh wounds. Y'know, it's stupid how a guy can't even get a moment's peace around here, between you and Diarmuid. Makes me wonder if you two have some kinda conspiracy.

Yet being the operative term here. [Elena holds that intense warning glare for a moment before fingers give a much gentler presses on ribs to assess the damage.] No breaks, like you said, but damn close. You'll need to rest up and let those heal.

As for Dia and I....happy coincidence. [Though that's given Elena an idea. Like meeting up with Diarmuid to discuss Reno's current state and ways to ensure that the man doesn't work himself to death.] What's stupid is a guy running off to get a moment's peace without telling anybody, thus causing said individuals to go on a massive man-hunt to find him.

[HUFF]

You want peace and quiet, Reno, we'll give it to you. But tell us where you are so we don't go into panic mode.

[The pressing gets a short grunt from him, trying to bear with the pain while she works.]

There's only a hundred floors in this damn place, you could've left a note on my bed.

[Just to irritate her, he lifts a hand and runs the back of it over her chest. At least it might distract her from lecturing him, and he really didn't want to hear more, especially after his fight.]

Y'know I just go off when I'm busy. Believe it or not, Elena, I don't want to burden you with the kind of shit I think. Full disclosure... sometimes it doesn't help, y'know?

Could have, but I figured the likelihood of you actually checking your bedside was rather low. You could have left a note also.

[Leaning forward, she inspects a certain spot on his ribs that's a darker shade of purple and frowns. Whatever he was doing, he was on the rough end on it. Or, if she paused long enough to remember she was thinking about, she would hate to see how the other guy ended up.

Something is warm and pressing into her chest, which earns an immediate frown and she's giving him a look before eyes roll and she sits back onto her legs. She doesn't even acknowledge his hand, instead pushing fingers of her right hand through her hair to push the curtain of blonde back behind her ear.]

I believe it, Reno. And, look, I won't push you for everything. But do a girl a favor and if you do go off when you're busy, leave a note with either myself or Xion or Shion so we don't start worrying about where you are and when we can expect you back. Can I least get that from you?

...I thought about it. I guess just lost track of how many days it's been.

[Not getting the reaction he hoped for, he drops his hand and pokes her in the stomach.]

I'll try next time. That work? Wish I could say it's been easy here, Elena. Wish I could be stronger for you. ...Truth is, I'm hatin' what's happening to me.

It can happen when you're really busy. Or when you're lost in thought.

[She can only assume that, now that he's getting handsy, he's calming down. At least he isn't shooting her angry looks anymore. The poke to her stomach does produce an involuntary squeak, her good hand batting at his.]

That'll work just fine. I know you've -

[Its that last sentence that earns a very special look. One that is confused and concerned and ready to battle off whatever demons were ailing him. If they took a physical form, that is. Fingers find his and curl around the longer digits.]

What do you mean, Reno? What's happening to you?

I think what happened to Rusty is happening to me. [Involuntarily, he grabs her hand tightly.]

Maybe. Maybe it's completely different. Look, El... maybe it's just this place. I don't... I don't really feel human anymore.

.....Reno.

[The memory of Rusty is weaker, made that way with time and other events that had forced it down. But she remembers his assessment of the man. Broken. Tired.

She's not that much more taller than he is, even at her elevated position. But, even with a broken arm, she's able to maneuver herself closer and press her head lightly into her chest.]

I know that you've dropped hints that there are things about you that make you...feel different than how you originally were. You said something about being a monster or a demon...but..

[But what, really? Were they even human anymore with these fake bodies?]

....Can you tell me what you mean? How do you not feel human anymore?

[This is a rather unexpected position, but he tries not to move to much because of their injuries. Closing his eyes, he breathes in deeply.]

...I want to wake up in my own bed. I want to shower and change in to my own clothes. Y'know, clothes I didn't have to make. I want to go downstairs... and get breakfast. Awful and burned because I can't cook worth shit, but my gramma's recipe for Junon pan fried fish. But it'd be real, and I'd eat it. And complain about how crap my cooking is before I have to go to work. And I want to get coffee first thing when I get into HQ. I want to tease everybody, play darts with Rude, before we go out on a mission. I want to get back, successful, because y'know, I'm supposed to be fuckin' good at what I do. Then I want to take you home and show ya everything I can't here.

[A deep, long sigh breaks up his monologue here.]

...But we're not even real here, and I guess that bothers me a lot more than it bothers the others.

[Touch is healing. Calming. Connecting. Plus it lets him stay what he needs to without feeling like she's staring him down or trying to force it out of him. And well, they're both limited on what can touch where.

She listens with quiet intensity, fingers playing lightly at shortened red strands. Everything he says, every word spoken, she understands. Feels the same way.]

....You're homesick. I think everybody is, to some degree. We all miss what we've lost.

[Its here she pauses, pressing a soft peck at the top of his head.]

We're real enough to still know when we're hurting. When we're sad. When we care about others. That's real. But...I don't think that's what you were alluding to, Reno.

[Shaking his head, he grabs her shoulders and pulls her close.]

Elena, that's not it. Not homesick. Homesick is for a specific time or place and that's not it at all... I just miss bein' able to decide things for myself. Like if I want to have that spicy steak for breakfast instead of fucking oatmeal. I want to be treated like an intelligent being. They think they got to "take care" of us. Like we're pets or something. I'm tired of being a pet. Of bein' under a microscope.

[Pausing, he closes his eyes and hangs his head, slowly leaning forward until his forehead rests against her shoulder.]

Even the hurt isn't real. It's just simulated crap. This rib, the gashes... they got us hooked into something and it takes away everything. And...

[Trailing off, he shakes his head, keeping his face away from hers.]

And I got this terrible feeling if we get unhooked, we'll die. What are we fighting for, Elena? Do we even got an idea? If it's between this and dyin', would ya want to die?

....E-Easy..

[The shift of her shoulders earns a little sharp breath, but nothing more. Nor does she give him room to move away, even if he wanted to. A little bit of pain wasn't enough to make her break whatever spell she'd managed to cast to get him to talk.]

Mmmm. No, you're right. Its...frustrating being treated like less than human. That they can do whatever they want, whenever they want. Toys. Maybe that's how they see us. Toys that don't physically break and they could care less about any other sort of breakage.

[Pausing, she makes a low, humming sound. She's thinking on his question and it doesn't take long to come to a conclusion.]

We're fighting for our right to be treated as people. For our freedom to make those choices. The freedom to live without fear of what tomorrow brings or what will be done to us. That's what I'm fighting for, anyway. Because fuck this place. But the hell if I'm dying on any terms other than my own.