Locked in the Tower ✪ Part Four: Don't Turn Your Back on the City

[megazero_to_superhero]

Characters:	David "Little David" Puskás, and all youse guys!
Setting:	All day March 9—Residential Floors, Floors 1, 14, 39, and 100
Format:	Matching tagger's choice, but starting with Prose.
Summary:	In the morning, martial arts training at the gym. Later in the day, David seeks out Waver and Diarmuid and chills at the Media Room. Toward the evening, David "visits" home on Floor 100. Also, random encounters in the Cafeteria.
Warnings:	None come to mind!

Option A: Floor Thirty-One (Gymnasium, Morning)


     Earlier last month, David had met Reno, and taken up his offer on getting some martial arts training, given that without ammunition for his rifle, he's quite effectively declawed. Reno says he likes getting that training done in the morning, so David's up bright and early today for his first lessons. It also looks like his powered armor is finally behaving itself, as he's casually floating into the gym using the suit's flight system.

     Although David's waiting for Reno, he's not above chatting it up with anyone else that might be in the gym if Reno's not there yet. Until then, he'll be idly examining the gym equipment, seeing what there is available, and—

     —oops, that tiny weight sure did slam on the ground hard.

     "Da heck is dis thing, made of lead?" David mutters as he cuts power to the flight system and tries to pick it up. Even with the motor-assist functions in his suit, he's having to put some effort into putting it back on the weight rack.





Option B: Dormitory Floors (Especially Floor Two, Afternoon)


     Later, David makes another attempt to find several people he's looking for—namely, Waver Velvet and Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. By now, just about everyone he's asked has named Diarmuid the go-to guy for learning how to fight with a sword. David's still got that Orcish sword on him, and as the only real weapon in his whole arsenal here at the Tower, he's got to learn how to use it. As for Lord El-Melloi II, David aims to talk to him about the results of the library Easter egg hunt.

     ... but, really, David should have done this before Zo's surprise rearrangement of residential assignments. Not that he had any reason to suspect it was going to happen, but it's made this a bit more difficult than it should have been.

     David wanders the residential floors, checking the various room signs for the people he's looking for. He'll find them eventually—even if it takes him a little while to do it. Plenty of time for anyone else to run into him, on chance. When he finds Diarmuid and Waver's housing assignments, though, he'll be knocking on their doors.





Option C: Floor One (Cafeteria, Morning/Noon/Evening)


     David doesn't really understand the significance between the choice of food available for each month, but he is so glad to be done with February.

     He hadn't learned of the resident-run kitchen until partway through the month, thanks to Reno. Up until then, he was flat out avoiding the Cafeteria during dinner hours. As if the side effects of power donation weren't enough.

     Now, though, he's enjoying the menu. Even if it's more suited for a kids' menu, he's not complaining. Not after last month. So, anyone visiting the Cafeteria throughout the day might see David helping himself to a stack of peanut butter pancakes and chocolate milk, sandwiches and mint soda, or spaceship chicken nuggets and vanilla milkshakes—depending on the time of day, of course.





Option D: Floor Fourteen (Media Room, Afternoon)


     "Tossin', turnin', nightmares burnin' / Dreams of swords in hand ..."

     No, that's not David's voice you're hearing over the media room's speakers, but rather Steven Tyler's. David's currently relaxing—in mid-air, no less, and in that laid-back hammock pose that Rolo Lamperouge caught him in a few months ago—while Aerosmith's "Kings and Queens" blares through the speakers. He's taking the time to savor having his powered armor return to full (and proper) functionality again after donating power at the end of January by abusing its flight system to chill out in his own way.

     The song's a lot darker than the type of Aerosmith songs David usually listens to—and the band is more well known for their bright, funky and peppy songs, but ... with recent events, and with some of the kind of people he's run into of late, it seemed fitting. And anyway, he'd missed hearing his favorite bands, since he'd never really visited the Media Room before until Ruana's game last month. It makes him wish he had some sort of MP3 player or walkman on hand. Or, that he had that functionality built into his helmet. Why didn't he ever think of that before?

     "Living times of knights and mares / Raising swords for maidens fair / Sneer at death, fear only loss of pride ..."

     It'd be easy for David to doze off again, but he's a little wary of doing that now. Instead, he floats in his hammock pose with a contented grin, nodding softly to the beat of the music in a sort of half-hearted headbang.





Option E: Floor One Hundred (VR Memory Floor, Evening)


     Floor One Hundred was one of many that David had never paid attention to before. Up until recently, he believed it was always the empty room that he had seen of it—however, after meeting Reno and being shown Ragnarok's files kept in Aria's hideout, now he knows what the floor really is ... and he's really curious to see it for himself. So, late in the day, he makes time to do just that.

     Stepping down onto the floor, the surroundings change into ... a stairwell? No, wait—after a moment, David realizes it's a building's roof access staircase, with the door leading outside open. He hesitates for a moment, before walking outside—and finding that the floor has turned into a roof.

     A roof of a building in Atlas Park. At night, in Paragon City, Rhode Island. America. Primal Earth. His home.

     It's all an illusion, of course. David knew that coming here—and yet, he's moved. Silently. It's a powerful recreation—there's no people visible down on the sidewalks, no Hellions or Vahzilok or other villainous scumbags trying to prey on the citizenry—but, as he approaches the edge of the roof, he can see that there is simulated traffic down there, and in the sky as well. The sights and sounds of a big American city emanate from all around.

     There, in the center of Atlas Park, is Atlas Plaza: City Hall, with the American flag made from Statesman's cape fluttering in the breeze. The massive statue bearing the weight of the world on its shoulders—dedicated to the superhero who gave his namesake to this part of town. The other neighborhoods bordering the seat of Paragon City's municipal government—behind him, the rest of Downside; on the north side of Atlas, The Promenade; Paragon Transit Authority's Yellow Line metrorail snaking its way through the buldings; Hyperion Way, and the entrance to what used to be Eastgate ...

     ... and all around, the shimmering War Walls dividing Atlas Park from the rest of Paragon, taller than almost any skyscraper. The rest of the city just barely visible beyond its energy fields, city lights winking in and out like starlight. Even knowing full well what he's seeing is simulated, David can't help but feel the urge to light up a stogie and survey the landscape for signs of trouble. Well—he doesn't have a lighter, but he does still have a fresh cigar in that travel case.

     With a quiet sigh, David fishes that cigar out of the case and places it in his mouth, contenting himself to at least feel he was back on Primal Earth ... if only for a short time.

Comments

Option B: Outside of Room 2-16

[oathshackledbird]

[There may not be anyone answering the door, but lucky for David, Diarmuid is just returning to his room from patrolling, his Irish wolfhound, Mac an Chuill, walking happily at his side. The hound's ears perk when he notices the stranger, but he remains at his owner's side waiting to see what he is ordered to do.

Diarmuid takes a moment to try and place David's face, but finally has to give up. Every time he thinks he's met everyone in the Tower, a new face surprises him.]

Is there something I can help you with? Are you looking for someone?

[megazero_to_superhero]

[David does a double take at Diarmuid's voice, looking a little surprised. Not necessarily startled, though—he'd heard someone walking by in the hallways, he just wasn't ... expecting conversation.]

—Oh!

[David turns to face Diarmuid fully. His powered armor's flight system is active at the moment, so he's floating more or less at eye-height with the Servant, even though he's almost as short as Arturia herself. David cocks a thumb at the door as he speaks.]

Yeah, I'm lookin' for dis "Deer-mud" guy. You seen 'em?

[oathshackledbird]

'Dear-mid.' That is his room. Why are you looking for him?

[Diarmuid's not sure if it's mischief or actual suspicion that leads him to not immediately identify himself, but for whatever reason, today he is playing it safe...

The slight upturned corner of his mouth might tip the scales toward mischief, though...]

It's been a little while since I last saw him, but if you mean him no harm, I am sure I can help you find him.

[megazero_to_superhero]

[David's never actually seen a picture of Diarmuid before, and no one ever really described what he looked like. So, David falls for the bluff completely.]

Buncha people I talked to in da Tower's told me he's da best guy to go to for learnin' how to fight with swords.

[He's brought his Orc blade and everything! It's hanging off of his suit's utility belt, opposite the side where his Vanguard "Redding" Rifle is waiting at his thigh.]

An' hey, all a better to learn from another hero, yanno?

I'm sorry. Apparently, Diarmuid is still in a pretty good mood from the 'anniversary' party...

[oathshackledbird]

I see.

[Diarmuid crosses his arms over his chest loosely, a contemplative look on his face. Never mind the spear that is being carried on his back, David. Or the swords at his hips. He's totally not talking about himself here...]

Did those people also tell you he's actually a master of spears and that swords are only his secondary specialty? That doesn't bother you?

[Another hero, hu? He can't help but wonder who exactly these people David is talking to are.]

He might argue with the hero bit. He tends to find it hard to believe that someone who has made so many mistakes and has so many flaws can be a hero. The people you talked to must hold him in very high esteem...

[megazero_to_superhero]

I got told he uses spears a lot, yeah.

[Here, David shrugs before continuing.]

If swords ain't his specialty, dat's arright. He's still gotta be really good with 'em what with how many people were tellin' me to go see 'em.

[David pauses again to consider what else this guy's saying about Diarmuid. He ... sure does seem to know a lot about how Diarmuid thinks and feels. Is he a close friend?]

[Regardless, David's expression turns into something like sympathy.]

An' anyway ... he ain't da only hero who's made screwups, believe me.

[oathshackledbird]

No...and he's been told that those kind of mistakes and flaws actually make a person a better hero because it helps them to relate to those who they are helping. Of course, he also has a rather thick skull when it comes to this kind of thing...

[Diarmuid smiles as if David's answer is the correct one to a test he doesn't even know he is being given. He puts a hand to his chest and bows to the man.]

Forgive me, for the questions. I am Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. You are looking for someone to teach you how to use a blade? You don't use more modern weapons with that odd suit of armor?

[Or, perhaps, that is why he is needing to learn. Ammo is limited in a place like this and he might be low or out. Aleph had been conserving his own supplies the last time Diarmuid talked to his friend for just that reason.]

[megazero_to_superhero]

[At first, David looks surprised at Diarmuid introducing himself, but then he chuckles.]

Dat an Irish thing?

[He doesn't sound judgmental when he says that. However, David continues on:]

When da admins brought me to da Tower, dey left all my ammo back home. See—

[David unclips the Vanguard "Redding" Rifle from the thigh mount and holds it out for Diarmuid to look at ... without really thinking on whether or not Diarmuid would know what a rifle is, or what ammo is. Even though he's already met a number of people who clearly come from worlds and times where such things are alien, he still has a tendency to think in terms of Primal Earth—where warriors of bygone ages can team up with aliens and time travelers from the future.]

A Blaster dat can't blast ain't gonna do much for da public good.

[Also, that rifle is about as tall as he is.]

[oathshackledbird]

[One of the pluses to having been in the Tower over a year is that Diarmuid has had some time to see weapons like the one David is showing. Okay, so nothing exactly like that, but close enough that he isn't left totally confused by its modern make and large size. He frowns, looking at the weapon closer and nodding.]

How inconvenient. You're right. It's not much good without ammunition unless, of course, you are good at beating people with it.

[Though, that might just damage the weapon. Diarmuid certainly has no idea how delicate its inner workings are.]

My name is Irish, you have that much correct. Are you familiar with my homeland?

dorm floors

[fionnuisce]

[Waver himself was coming back to room 2-04 rather than leaving it; he'd spent the morning (and most of the previous night) in the laboratory. In what passed for a break from research with him, the magus was coming to get his alchemy equipment and attempt further work on Volumen Hydragyrum. If it wasn't one form of work with him, it was another.]

Looking for someone? [He liked to think he wasn't a difficult person to find, but all this shuffling about had complicated things.]

[megazero_to_superhero]

[David spins about in place—something easily afforded by the return of his suit's systems to normalcy. Compared to his run-in with Diarmuid earlier, he's a lot more carefree. After all, he recognizes Waver's voice.]

Oh—heyas! Just da guy I was lookin' for, in fact.

[fionnuisce]

Oh...right. Listen, I'm a bit limited in the ammunition department.

[Waver frowned and lit a cigarette, visibly annoyed with himself.]

The best I have at the moment is some extremely outdated gunpowder I created in the laboratory, but that's as likely to blow up in your face as it is to be of any real use.

[megazero_to_superhero]

[Well, Waver did warn him that might happen—so David doesn't look too disappointed. Even so, maybe with what he could dredge up, things might work out ...]

Dat's arright—I've been busy tryin' to check out da libraries for anything dat might help you figure out how to make 'em.

[Here, David looks slightly off to the side and tilts his head, as if admitting he hadn't had a breakthrough on that end either.]

Had some help doin' it, an' we did find some stuff but uh—nothin' dat goes into too much detail. An' we couldn't find no pictures or diagrams.

[fionnuisce]

Unfortunately, I can't determine the chemical formula for a more standard propellant off the top of my head. At the moment, there's little else even I'm able to do.

[He shrugged, prepared to admit he'd hit a brick wall.]

Unfortunate, but I rather expected this result.

[megazero_to_superhero]

[That's something he can help with from his research! He fishes for something attached to his utility belt, which turns out to be a scrap of paper with notes hastily scrawled all over it.]

Didja try stuff like, uh—double-base gunpowder? Or ... cast perk-o-late?

[He's trying to pronounce that legibly ...]

[fionnuisce]

[Waver pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, silently reminding himself of the values of patience.]

That's what I'm trying to say. I can take guesses as to what chemicals modern gunpowder would require, but work this delicate requires more than even an alchemist's guessing. Measurements down to the last decimal point, of specific and probably very touchy chemicals. For someone that's barely even looked at a gun before, I'm lucky I managed outdated black powder without blowing myself up.

[megazero_to_superhero]

[For his part, David looks suitably embarrassed by his naiveté. Both in his assumption that certain processes in magic would more straightforward than science or technology, and in his assumption that manufacturing this stuff would be as easy as it seemed in those sources he found.]

Oh—right, yeah.

[David ain't no Balin Wilbur, that's for sure.]

Da only one I found dat had somethin' like a measurement was dat double-base stuff—

[He glanced at the paper again.]

—40% nitroglycerin an' 60% nitrocellulose. But, uh, dat's prolly not a precise enough measurement for dis?

Option A: Fl 31 - Gymnasium

[neverbeamemory]

Hmph.

[Sephiroth is always up bright and early. An more often than not can be found on this floor at some point, almost every day that he's been kept here. He is on his way back to the weight rack with two clearly smaller-looking weights, one in each hand.

However, from the strain visible in his arms they're clearly not the weight that they look. He steadily raises the weights and places them carefully back on the rack - the equipment in here can randomly break on a whim and he knows that much.

Then he turns to where a- robot? seems to be having trouble lifting a weight that looks even smaller than the ones he's been working with.]

They are never what they seem, on this floor.

[But doesn't make any move to help, whatsoever.]

OH HAI SEPHIROTH :D

[megazero_to_superhero]

[David doesn't respond right away—too focused trying to get that weight back where it belongs. One final push, that's all it'll take—there. He heaves a sigh as he steps back, watching for a moment to make sure the weight doesn't suddenly slide off again.]

[Now, he registers the other guy's voice. Not Reno—someone else. Well, it is a public gym. David turns around as he replies.]

Kinda seems like da whole Tower operates on—

[And once he lays eyes on the other guy, he looks just a bit dumbstruck.]

—dat.

HI!! xD

[neverbeamemory]

You wouldn't be wrong in that, the whole place is a literal death-trap.

[He brushes the comment off, just like that. Though he's not sure how to take this man-in-a-mech-suit's dumbstruck look.

So, true to form Sephiroth is careful not to exhibit any expression, rather coolly but carefully testing his own weight back against the weight rack before folding his arms up in front of him.]

I've not seen you around on this Floor before.

[It seems as good a place as ever to start.]

[megazero_to_superhero]

[David's still looking rather ... startled? Surprised? Even as Sephiroth responds. It's a sort of rubbernecking expression, almost like what one would expect from denizens of a city watching a hero fight crime in bright pink hot pants.]

Aheh—yeah, I uh ... Never tried workin' out in dis place before. Not really my thing—

[David cuts himself off. A beat passes in silence while he raises a pointed finger into the air, as if he were trying to recall something just beyond his memory.]

Okay. You ...

[Now he's pointing at Sephiroth.]

How'd you grow up so fast?

[He's seen you before, Seph! Just not you you.]

oh my shit how precious! :D

[neverbeamemory]

[He doesn't half wonder what he actually did to David to react in such away around him. Have they met before or something? Who knows, nothing is impossible in the Tower and memory-wiping could too easily have been a thing.

Sephiroth frowns, though not too deeply as suddenly he's being pointed at-

For just a fleeting moment Sephiroth wonders if -somehow- David could be from another version of his World, such planes of existence did run almost parallel to each other after all. That his doppelgänger that had been here-

Of course. The frown fades away and he unfolds his arms smoothly.]

I didn't. That version of me left this place a while ago.

David is very easily confused. :D

[megazero_to_superhero]

[... Oh. Oh. Another instance of him, from a different dimension—why oh why didn't he think of that?! David slaps the heel of a palm to the brow of his helmet.]

Wow, we got some real funny guys in charge of dis Tower.

[Between the two Sephiroths and some of the other things he's heard here and there, there's no way that Zo isn't doing things like this on accident. That's what David's decided.]

Okay. But you still got da same name, right? What was it—Sephy-somethin' ...

[neverbeamemory]

[It's not like him to say so, but 'No shit' is pretty much written across Sephiroth's face.

Both eyebrows then raise expectantly as David almost-recollects his name. They then fall and his silvered head shakes a couple of times. There are much larger things to be disappointed about.]

Sephiroth.

[Close enough, though proof that word doesn't get everywhere. A lot of people know his name in this place, that he doesn't know himself.]

[megazero_to_superhero]

[Certainly, David has no reason to think ill of Sephiroth. For now.]

Sephiroth, yeah, dat. Well, since I don't think I never introduced myself da "first" time—

[David points a thumb at himself.]

I'm da darin' Little David. Or David Puskás, if you want. Usually go by my hero name, though.

[Given he stands about 5'3", "Little" is not a misnomer.]