(no subject)

[midgarhorizon]

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.

Comments

[midgarhorizon]

"I told ya, so would ya leave me alone now?" It seemed he wouldn't give Diarmuid the chance to learn whether he had something specific in mind or if he himself knew what he meant. The truth was a cross between the two and Reno didn't really want to think about it, since his head was already hurting with the force it took to reign in his anger.

[oathshackledbird]

"I'm sorry, Reno, I can't do that," Diarmuid shakes his head. "If I were talking with anyone else in the group, and I walked away and left them like this, you would beat me for it. We don't leave family when they need us."

"However, if you don't want to talk anymore, then I will be silent. If you still wish me to leave despite that, you will have to make me."

[midgarhorizon]

"Fine." Without another word, Reno got up and stalked off into the greenhouse, being careful not to brush up against any foilage, no matter how innocous it looked. If Diarmuid was going to stay on the floor, Reno didn't have to sit there, too. There was no way he could move Diarmuid off the floor by force, and he knew it. If he tried speed, Diarmuid would move faster than he could, and if he used strength, that would work even worse than speed.

It was one of those rare, unprecedented moments that Reno wished he had gone through the SOLDIER project. His soul, for the power to actually make a difference would've been a small price to pay.

[oathshackledbird]

Diarmuid almost lets Reno go. Considering how badly his attempts to help have gone so far, it seems like the wiser thing to do before he causes damage he can't undo. Perhaps someone else can get through to him where Diarmuid himself has not.

But...it just feels wrong. Where would Diarmuid be if Waver had given up on him when the magus didn't understand or was worried about hurting him? Would Diarmuid even be recognizable?

In the end, he can't do it. Diarmuid can't just let Reno walk away. Decision made, only a heartbeat later, he is standing in front of the red head, hand clenching the man's collar so that he can't continue forward.

"Why are you so determined to run away today? It won't get you anywhere," his expression is sincere and worried. "Believe me, I know."

[midgarhorizon]

"I'm." There was only a second hesitation, spurred by shock and the spare thought that Diarmuid was pretty ballsy, before Reno's hand shot up to grab Diarmuid's wrist holding his collar. "Not." His fingers aimed for pressure points, trying to pull it up and off the fabric, while shifting his weight to one foot and pivoting to the side and kept clinging to the lancer's wrist. "Running." He was in a good position to attempt a sweep, kicking out and around trying to hook Diarmuid's.

Just going to throw a warning in here for fighting/whatever blood these two dorks might spill!

[oathshackledbird]

Diarmuid allows his hand to be pulled from Reno's shirt, but he doesn't pull it completely free of the other man's grasp. For the moment, freeing it is the least of his worries. More pressing is not even the leg sweep which Diarmuid can easily leap over, but dialing back his own abilities until he can judge how strong Reno himself is and how much of the blood on the red head's clothes is there because he is injured.

As he leaps up to avoid the leg sweep, Diarmuid angles jump so he goes up and over Reno's head pulling back hard on the arm that Reno is still holding onto. Either Reno is going to have to let go or risk being pulled over backward onto his back.

Diarmuid doesn't talk a lot as he fights, so Reno's words remain unanswered. Besides, at this point, he has the feeling the fight might say a lot more in a clearer manner than any words could.

[midgarhorizon]

Unwilling to let go, Reno tried pivoting with the jump, turning the backward into forward momentum on his arm, but it came too late and he cried out, dropping the wrist and clutching at his side.

Though he told everyone he wasn't injured and the blood wasn't his, he had lied, at least in part. The injuries were sustained from the battles with plague doctors to protect others working toward the goal of the entire incident. They were healing, but slowly, and Reno took care of them himself. The ones from protecting Xion were the worst, followed by three long and deep gashes across his chest. Upper arms and legs were bruised, and cuts made walking painful.

He kept at it, however, staggering back to get his balance and launched himself at Diarmuid in a tackle.

[oathshackledbird]

Wrist freed, Diarmuid lands lightly behind Reno, readying himself to launch into his next move when the red head's cry of pain stops him in his tracks. He frowns and seems like he's about to say something when Reno continues the attack. Worried more now about how badly the other man is injured, instead of trying to attack in any way, Diarmuid chooses to avoid instead, rolling to the side to avoid the tackle and putting some distance between them.

"How badly are you hurt, you fool?"

[midgarhorizon]

The tackle landed Reno on the floor behind where Diarmuid had stood, and he really should have thought that move through before he made it. Air knocked out of his lungs, he paused long enough to try to suck in a breath, but froze when he heard Diarmuid's question.

There is one thing that Reno, above all else, hates to be called. Be it friend, enemy or brother, being taken for a fool was on the list of unforgivable. He was proud to be a Turk, and being a Turk took a lot of skill and smarts of one sort or another. Screaming out an inarticulate word, he picked himself off the floor and went at the man again, this time in a series of kicks.

[oathshackledbird]

Leave it to Reno to take his words the wrong way. Of course, considering the man's current frame of mind, Diarmuid can't say he is surprised at the reaction. He blocks part of the kicks--taking notice that a couple land with a lot more force than he was expecting--dodging others and allowing the man to work out as much of his anger as he wishes. When there seems to be a slight pause in the attacks, Diarmuid takes advantage of it, sliding in a few quick kicks of his own to try and back the man off--one at Reno's chest and then one at his chin.

[midgarhorizon]

The one to the chest connects, stopping Reno dead in his tracks with an slight, audible crack coming from the vicinity of his ribcage. The pain is enough to make him crumple to the floor clutching his side, while the kick to the chin missed by sheer luck.

So far, he hadn't made any noise or screamed even from the shock, but that changed when Reno moved again, another stab of pain warning him from trying to get up. It was bad enough, and he laid there gasping without trying to breath in too deeply. Diarmuid was forgotten for the moment.

[oathshackledbird]

Diarmuid had been trying very carefully to pull his punches--or kicks in this case--but obviously he had not tried hard enough. He winces when the kick connects and again when Reno lets out that pained sound. Quickly, he moves to the man's side, kneeling next to him.

He starts to put a hand on Reno's shoulder, but stops getting the feeling the red head will probably try to push him away and a jerking action like that will just make him hurt worse. Instead, he asks a simple question.

"How bad?"

[midgarhorizon]

Ignoring the question, Reno sat up suddenly, grabbing at Diarmuid's collar and sending his fist right at the man's face.

Obviously, Reno had been exaggerating the extent of how badly he hurt... either that, or he was suppressing the pain to get one last blow in.

[oathshackledbird]

To be truthful, Diarmuid isn't that surprised by the punch. He's seen the injury ruse used before. He's also seen men block out an amazing amount of pain just to get that one last blow in...

That's why, even though he has plenty of time, Diarmuid doesn't dodge the blow. If Reno wants to hit him that badly, then he's going to let him do it. The blow hits straight on--right across the cheek. And without jerking to lessen the impact, he's going to have a hell of a bruise for a while until his body heals it.

"Do you feel better now?" The question is a soft and honest one. He hopes the answer is yes.

[midgarhorizon]

Scrunching up his face, Reno laid back again, holding his side and groaning. "No." The sound is clipped and angry, not entirely from the pain. "Get out of my face."

[oathshackledbird]

"Do you really think I am going to just leave you here when you are injured?" Though he is trying to hide it, there is a sharpness to Diarmuid's voice now too. He's frustrated and perhaps even a little angry, but at himself, not Reno.

Why hasn't he been able to help the man who helped him so much not that long ago?

"If you wish to be alone so badly, fine. Just let me take you to the infirmary and I will leave you there."

[midgarhorizon]

Sitting up with effort and very, very carefully, Reno propped himself up with one arm.

"They won't be able to do a damned thing, and you know it. I cracked a fuckin' rib, you dumbass."

[oathshackledbird]

Diarmuid's eyes narrow very slightly, but otherwise that is the only reaction the red head gets, "They are called painkillers, Reno, and I am sure at least one of the many they have down there will take the edge off."

[midgarhorizon]

"They won't help either." Swallowing on a dry throat, he shuffled up against a bench and closed his eyes. He was getting very tired, between the pain and fighting what amounted to a human wall. If Diarmuid pressed the issue again he wasn't sure he could stop him.

[oathshackledbird]

For a long moment, Diarmuid just watches him silently. As tired and as hurt as Reno is, he can't just leave him here. It would be too easy for someone or something who wanted to do him harm to do it. Yet, at the same time, Diarmuid has the feeling that actually carrying Reno down to the infirmary might do more harm than a monster attacking him would right now.

Finally, his reaches into one of the pockets in his armor and pulls out a small bottle, which he sits on the bench next to where Reno is sitting.

"The person who gave me that said it was called a Hi-Potion. I don't know if you have anything like that on your world, but it's a healing drought. It is only one dose, but it is suppose to heal just about anything. Drink it or save it. It is your choice."

With that, Diarmuid turns and does, perhaps, what he should have done a while ago. He walks away, and he hopes that Kain's gift to him won't be wasted.