dualislogs | A catch all for Seifer, in MY log comm? It's more likely than you think.

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A catch all for Seifer, in MY log comm? It's more likely than you think.

WHO: Seifer, some specific starters, and heck anyone else who wants him
WHAT: All kinds of stuff
WHERE: The dorms, Firecross Metalworks, and places in between
WHEN: All through Feb
WARNINGS: Swearing, soldier stuff, trauma mentions probably. Just assume yes.

With events ramping up to ever increasing levels of alarm, Seifer's not one to sit idly by. There are weapons to be made, supplies to be stockpiled, and most of all a base of operations needs to be built. He's no commander, and people in the past would have told him his being a leader of any kind is a joke. But fuck them, they aren't here and he's not waiting for the robot execution crew to come around.

As such he's quite the busy bee. All about town, often hauling some kind of mishmash pile of junk in various carts along with him, or stockpiling nonperishable food supplies and water. Just where he's taking all of this is anyone's guess, but he's definitely at it. Always with his cheerful crocdog in tow. He's bound to be stopping it at many shops, getting kicked out of Premium Foods for some reason or another, or just stopping to get some snoobloos out of a food truck.

What? They're tasty.

[Individual starters within.]

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[This happened way too often. Shocked out of restless sleep by the usual brand of nightmares, stumbling awkwardly out of bed with little regard for how much noise he was making as he tried to escape the cramped dorm room.

"Fuck. Stupid. Shit." He growled at a wastepaper bin that had totally leaped out in front of him it wasn't where it always was and he just had zero coordination, no this was a malicious attack!

He kicked it roughly out of the way, blundering into the darkness of the common area to try to go stick his forehead on a window until the fog went far enough away he could manage to make his own damn tea.

Hyne, was this getting exhausting.]

[Way too often indeed. This is why Duke tries to avoid sleeping in the room at the same time Seifer is. Matter of fact he avoids being in the room when Seifer's awake, too, but that's not always possible and now he's not getting any sleep tonight either.

Eos whines, worried about his master, and with a sigh Duke gets up and pulls on clothes. He opens the door and Eos skitters down the hall to the common area, Duke reluctantly in tow. Seifer's pressing his face against the window and Duke raises his eyebrows, filling the kettle.]

If you fall asleep there, I'm not moving you.

[Trust him, it's way more annoying for him. Seifer can't just walk away from it and go sleep somewhere else, it'll always be there. Duke gets the room most of the day he can let Seifer have his bed damn it.

Poor Eos, never knows what to do when this happens so he just trots uncertainly up near his master, keeping a safe distance.

Seifer was content to space out there for a while, letting the cool sink into his forehead and maybe soothe away the persistent, heavy fog in his mind. Duke's voice like grating fingernails on chalkboard... help, in their own way. Even if it is annoying. A shadowy tendril manifests and does its best impression of a middle finger in his general direction. It's not perfect, his concentration's shot at the moment, but it's enough to get the gist.]

Good. Maybe I'll fall through.

[He growled out. And wouldn't that be a relief at this point?]

[It was a lot harder for Seifer, and he recognizes that. That's why he's getting two mugs out of the cupboard in the kitchen part of the common area. Duke had never made a secret of resenting Seifer's presence and vice versa, but that doesn't mean he wants him in a bad state. At least he's feeling well enough to flip Duke an ethereal bird, and Duke passively returns it with a flesh-and-blood gesture.]

If that happens, I'm not cleaning you up. And Eos would be sad.

So don't be stupid. Also, chamomile or sleepytime tea?

[Funnily enough Seifer didn't resent him. Honestly he had no particularly strong feelings for Duke one way or another. People being forced into his living space at random was pretty par for the course and normal for him. Truth be told, despite the humiliation this all brought him, being alone in a room was so much worse. He'd lived in dorms and cramped shared rooms the entirety of his remembered life. Anything beyond the orphanage was just too far gone.

Of course, while he appreciated the company in his own strange way, there was no way in hell he was ever going to admit to it.]

The fuckin' robots can scrape my sorry ass up and I hope they fuckin' rust.

[He hissed against the window, finally moving to pull himself away from the cool glass to stumble his way to a stool at the kitchen's outer bar type counter. Perhaps the worst part of this was the loss of coordination, usually he was much more sure on his feet.]

Ain't they the same thing?

[That's a thank you, Duke.]

If that's your plan you need to rethink it. Don't die in a way that can be undone with WD-40, it's wasteful.

[Not that he figured Seifer was serious, but this was going down a dark road anyway and a practical reminder couldn't hurt, right?]

One has lemongrass and one has chamomile. Neither has actual tea.

Yeah... ain't nearly as grand an out as it should be.

[If he's going to die it's not because he splattered out of a window, true. More like a blaze of glory. Taking down a bunch of robots with him.]

I don't wanna go back to bed yet.

[Lemongrass, please.]

Yeah, not much of a story, is it? If I have to tell people my roommate died I need something better than that.

[If he had to die, the blaze of glory was the only option.]

So is that a vote for chamomile?

[He still felt sick, speech somewhat stilted and slurred, but pondering his blaze of glory was a lot more fun than dwelling on the darkness creeping at the edge of his vision. Hyne if only the damned headaches would go...]

Spruce it up. Tell 'em I fell off a buildin' fighting off ten... nah twenty Iterations.

[Yeah, that sounds properly glorious. Last time he died it was in a blaze, but one more like disgrace than glory. Hardly something to write home about.]

Lemongrass.

[He said he didn't want to go back to bed yet damn it.]

Nah. Twenty-five, plus Darth Vader and Voldemort. [Definitely a much better death than a depressing tumble out the window, even if Duke is pretty sure Seifer won't catch either reference.

Both teas were designed to be soporific so Duke raises his eyebrows.]

Sleepytime tea it is.

[A slight smirk, yeah, he likes that.] I dunno who those are, but I could take 'em.

[It's alright if he doesn't catch it, he's realized that it's an Earth thing to reference pop culture. It reminds him of old friends from the village who really helped him out of some of his rut.

He just sighs in mild annoyance, but lacks enough energy to really put up a decent fight over it. It's not like he's going to get back to sleep easily after this anyway.]

I hope so. I've got a bet out on it. [Not really, that was extreme odds even for Dualis and even for Seifer with his weird shadow-tentacle power, but it was a comforting image. (And hypothetically Vader and Voldemort might just battle each other instead, taking Iterations out in the process. That was also an enjoyable thought.)

Duke notes the sigh and rolls his eyes, the gesture exaggerated enough to register to a sleepy mind.]

Is that a vote for coffee instead? After I went through all this work?

Mhmm.

[He doesn't believe that for a moment, not even knowing who those characters were he still doesn't believe it. Still, he does appreciate the humor, it's helped a bit in dragging him back from the confusing fog.]

Just give me the damn tea.

[He snaps, the irritation bubbles back easily enough. Sorry, Duke, he's always ill-tempered.]

If you insist.

[Duke drops the Sleepytime Tea bag into a mug of hot water and passes it over to Seifer, giving him an unamused look in return.]

You can just ask nicely for what you want, you know.

[What? Don't look at him like that. He scowls right back, equal parts tired and sick feeling, with maybe the tiniest bit of guilt of which he'll never admit. He doesn't care what people think, no sir, especially not this guy. Nope.]

Please.

[He growls out in an annoyed tone. There, you got your manners. Late, but present. He's just going to cradle the cup carefully in shaking hands and sort of... vulture hunch over it while he waits for it to steep. Don't mind him he's just not well.]

Thanks for using the magic word.

[Well, it was better than nothing. Seifer can crouch over that cup like a dragon over a hoard all he wants, Duke guesses. At least he briefly acted like a human and doesn't seem irrational.]

[If looks could kill. Seifer just shoots him a nasty glare, setting his jaw firmly in determined silence before curling back up over his mug very much like a hostile dragon. He does, eventually, try to take a sip, then realizes that it's sorely lacking in any sweetener...

Which means having to speak to Duke again.

You know what? No, he'll do it his damn self.

A shadowy tendril snakes over the counter and goes fumbling around for something that isn't even on that counter. Given it's currently taking all of his concentration not to fall off his stool he's probably not going to get up and actually go looking for it. Because Seifer's a stubborn idiot.]

Even with most hours of her day taken up at the bar, Tifa st still finds ways to head out to the warehouse. She likes it there and she knows Cloud will be around and the people are more trustworthy than most who end up at her bar. Being able to let down the expectations and daily paranoia is nice. Relieving, even, despite the fact that she's taken to wearing her Dragon's Claws when she walks around now, just in case something happens. They aren't exactly inconspicuous, but slightly easier to ignore when compared to Seifer's... cartful of junk?

"What's all that for?" she asks curiously as she approaches one day.

Not to worry, Tifa, everyone at the warehouse was equally as paranoid. Not about her, just the city in general. A friend of Cloud's is a friend of Seifer's as far as he's concerned. Guy doesn't seem like he befriends people idly or easily, after all.

Hey now, don't judge his junk! It's very important junk.

"Just in case," Vague, but true. Since they were closer to the warehouse and out of earshot he could actually talk to her frankly, fortunately. "I use the scrap as base metal for my work for the most part, some of this might go into traps. Some's just to fuck with people." He holds up a very uncomfortably beat up doll's head he likely dug out of the trash. Yes, those will also be incorporated into his psychological warfare of mannequins. Seifer's strange.

She's not all that surprised to hear that he's partially using this to mess with people. By now, she's gotten that much out of the little group here. The rest of it gives her pause for a minute as she glances down at her hands where the three long claws extend out well past her fingers.

"What about weapons?" she asks carefully. "These gloves are great, but you'd think they would've made the claws retractable."

It gets just as difficult as he thinks with all of this metal hanging off her hands every time she puts the gloves on. If he could make a set with claws just as long that she could extend and retract with a button or a thread catch, she would probably supply him with free alcohol for a while.

Uh ... you’re not really gonna eat those, are you?

[here’s jason, hanging with his bro at the food truck, giving seifer a serious case of side-eye over the snoobloos he just ordered. bro, we have concerns.]

‘Cause I gotta say, even I won’t touch those, and I used to eat out of dumpsters when I was a kid.

What do you think?

[He asks as he skewers one on a tooth pick and pops it into his mouth, smirking. Of course he's going to eat them!]

So I take it you don't want an order? [Ah well, more for him. This is totally fine and not at all weird.] Dumpsters probably have more flavor than cafeteria food.

[Listen, he's pretty sure they just boil Grats half the time. And Jason's very lucky he doesn't know what those are.]

[jason wrinkles his nose. gross, dude.]

Hard pass. And if by flavors you mean rats that are twice as big and three times meaner than normal, yeah, that’s exactly what you’ll find in dumpsters in Gotham.

[Seifer just grins. Unflinching.]

Gotta be better than what I'm pretty fuckin' sure was boiled Grat. Or rations.

[Rations are the worst. And sorry, Jason, he's not very concerned about giant rats that sounds normal to him. If an animal doesn't try to eat you there's something wrong with it.]

[Drifter lives up to his name. He comes and goes on the breeze. He spends time in the tunnels, translating those glyphs. He trolls for parts. He builds more teleport stations for them to use to get around. He drops by the city to get more parts. He does his job and brings them people who aren't doubles for weapons.]

[All in all, he oozes in and out.]

Hoooo boy, I got somethin' for ya, Brother.

[He drags in a crystal that he sets on a table.] This prism will be a helluva help in buildin' a wave splitter.

[His Ghost immediately goes to play with the dog.]

[Which is fine by Seifer. He's there often, damn near lives at the place anymore. Sleeps there most of the time even. It keeps him from bothering Duke and frankly he finds it safer than the dorms where the damned robots know where he is for certain. Maybe it's a false sense of security, but it's a small one regardless.

Take what you can get in this dystopian hellscape after all.]

Oh yeah?

[He glances up from his work, right now putting together the small delicate parts that will form an even newer and more improved version of the trigger mechanism on his gunblade. All dismantled on the workbench before him.

Oh, hello. He leans over, dragging the crystal under his magnifying light to have a closer look.]

The hell's a wave splitter? But damn, this thing looks nice.

[Dog hops up, eager for playtime that's now become customary when Drifter arrives.]

What magnifies and weaponizes a laser beam! Here, watch this.

[He puts the crystal in a vice. He puts up a piece of steel for the light to target at, and starts setting up some narrowed pin-lights to show off.]

Notice you've been around here more, by the way. Not that I blame ya, the dorm is all eyes and many ears. But uh... anything else contributin'?

[He ignores the sound of pattering feet off somewhere hidden. The ghost obeys him and stays as hidden as possible, but the little dog is no threat.]

So you're tellin' me we're makin' laser guns?

[Because he is all for making laser guns. Can you make laser swords? That's probably asking too much. But still, that's damn cool. He moves over to where he can better observe destruction in the making. It's his favorite kind of science.

A huffed snort at the question.]

What with everyone gettin' turned into robots every fuckin' time I turn around.

[He's lost people. And Seifer doesn't exactly bond easily so now that he's getting closer and closer to being alone... time to cut the cords here.

Eos just loves the opportunity to play with anyone, really. Floating ghost robot being makes a great playmate!]

Been thinkin' it's high time for a move outta the city. Find somewhere to fortify. You ready to go huntin' for real estate?

[He's not in the mood to get emotional. He is in the mood to work his ass off and get into a fight though.]

Yeah, you can do it with a sword.

[He drags over a sheet of graph paper and starts to draw how Black Talon works. In the meantime, he listens.]

Yeah, we oughta do that.

[Simple enough.]

I've noticed people goin' missin'. Started spending less time around the dorms because of it. Figured it'd be best. I don't know that the guy can replace me, and that's almost worse.

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A catch all for Seifer, in MY log comm? It's more likely than you think.

Roomies time - Duke

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