revivalproject | Ship Them All Away

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Ship Them All Away

WHO: Reeve Tuesti, Open
WHERE: Agrii Ship
WHAT: New Tick Has Arrived
WHEN: January 10th and 11th
WARNINGS: None ~~unless you consider Mini near a gun dangerous~~

1. Let's Get Accessorized

The gifts are, at their core, nothing new. Well, there were more than there had been previously, and Reeve wondered if the Agrii were going to keep escalating this celebration of theirs. How long until it became a truly untenable amount of things for them to take back? There was still that giant stone statue on the one ship since Link left. Not that he begrudged the thing, it was just so... large.

"Ya need ta stop worrying so much. Gonna go gray early," Mini chides from where he sits in Reeve's lap on one of the nice blankets. The cat had just finished hauling all three of Reeve's gifts over and was now making a show of 'resting' in the man's lap.

"A bit of gray in my hair would likely only serve to make me look more distinguished," Reeve counters as he reaches out for the first gift.

"Ya're vain enough ta dye it," Mini teased.

Reeve rolled his eyes, even as true as it was. Meanwhile his hands went through the process of opening a box. He wasn't even thinking much about it. Only he did freeze when he saw what was inside.

Golden sandals. With little straps and red stones on the outside edges.

"Oy, those are hideous!" Mini laughs. "Hey, come here, look at these."

Reeve meanwhile was left staring in shock as Mini beckoned to the next nearest He Row, still laughing up a storm.

2. Mini's Got A Gun

"Now this one," Mini says, when things calm down after the teasing about silly accessories from home. Reeve now wore his Protect ring on his finger to keep it easy to find until he can find Richie and put it on the man's finger. For now the cat was dragging over the largest box, one wrapped in orange.

"Clearly, as there are no others," Reeve said before gesturing for Mini to act.

The cat tears through the orange paper with all of the fervor of his form, shredding the paper as he went. Soon enough the feline was pulling the top off of a box and.

"Holy Mother Minerva!" Mini shouted in shock before falling back on his fluffy butt and scooting quickly away. "Is th-tha-that what I think it is!?"

"You're making a scene," Reeve sighed before reaching into the box with both hands and lifting the gift out. "Been a while since I saw one of these."

The man expertly checked to make sure that the safety on the semi-automatic rifle was on before he started field stripping the thing with casual efficiency.

"Seems to be in working order too. But of course they did not include a proper maintenance kit," he lamented as he checked the firing pin. "I shall have to ask Cayde or Soldier if they are equipped in such areas. It would be quite unfortunate to not keep such a fine piece of machinery in anything but pristine working conditions."

"Reeve, that's a gun!" Mini protested loudly. "We can't have one of those!"

"And yet," he said with a shrug before continuing his deconstruction and inspection, "would it not be nice to have a means to be protected in emergencies when my magic does not function?"

3. Tension In The Air

"Is it just me, or does this whole place feel like a ticking time bomb?"

The words are breathed just under Reeve's breath at breakfast the next morning. The lines for food in the Mess Hall are not lengthy, at least not this portion of it. Perhaps People are already tired of the faint peanut butter taste to many of the foods. Reeve... Well, he'd been driven enough in the process of repairs last time that he was pretty sure he had burnt his tastebuds out on the flavor and could no longer tell it was there anymore.

At last that's what he told himself as he stood in line for what looked like a slightly teal form of pancake that smelled of... honey and peanut butter of course. But hey, that combination of flavors might actually work.

Mostly, though, he was here to speak. With the way the Agrii felt like they watched him, the ones that wanted to thank him for repair help last time, and his quiet conversations with the AI the night before, well, he wanted to bounce some ideas off of any other 'He Row' he could.

And this one felt insanely pressing to him. The metaphor felt particularly fitting as well. He'd been in situations racing against ticking time bombs before after all. plus all of those executive level meetings that just as well could have been compared to one.

But there was always a chance this was all in his head. That the tension he read in the Agrii was just his own stress manifesting in a misreading between species. So the outside input was something he very much desired.

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"If you don't have any grey in your hair, Mini and I aren't harassing you enough," York pipes up from the side he's walking from. He's got his gifts in tow, sans the riot shield which he left back in his own room for the time being. Doesn't want to think about it or touch it.

He stops at Reeve's side, and waves to Mini. Those bright eyes look over the man's gifts and raises a brow. "What the hell did they give you sandals for the in middle of winter? Seems asinine. Did you do something to piss off the gift givers?"

Keith looked up at Reeve, and then out over the crowd by the food line. He frowned and then nodded.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "And, for a really long time now, they've been denying people weapons... now suddenly those with the orange armbands are giving them out as gifts." What did that mean? Keith wasn't sure of that, but the thing he was sure of is that it couldn't be a good thing.

Not that Keith was complaining about finally having his Marmora blade. It was currently in its sheath and secured to the back of his belt. Coincidence to have gotten it after he was almost killed? Maybe. But it was easier to carry this than his bayard.

Reeve thinks about the gun now hidden away in the room he's sharing with York and nods. He's just as unnerved by that as anything else. Many people here were clearly more suitable for a weapon than he was. The Agrii had no reason to give something to Reeve when he was already magically adept. Not that he didn't feel safer with it.

"I'd say maybe they are trying to allow us to protect ourselves from whoever is trying to hunt us down, but I'm not sure it's about that at all."

"Minerva protect me from the stress my sons place upon me," Reeve chuckles, shaking his head.

"He needs us," Mini reminds York with a smile. "The old man is paving too many roads again. Or was. Can't rest."

Reeve ignores the common criticism of the cat before he considers the sandals that York is confused over.

"They are called Sprint Shoes," he says, lifting them from the box and letting the tingle of the magic in him spread over his skin.

"They are called an 'accessory' back home. Items with magical enchantments on them, usually by infusion of materia, but sometimes they are something special indeed. These, when worn, make you faster. Walking, running, fighting, thinking. It's called a haste effect. And it never fades."

This was not where Tony wanted to be. With everyone gathered together, he watched the other residents of Temba tensely, and searched the faces of the assembled Agrii for the ones he would recognize as one of their leaders, hoping they would take this assembly as their opportunity to relate when they would be allowed to return to their ships. He lingered near the denser plant growth, feeling underdressed for a holiday party with his stained gloves hanging from his toolbelt and goggles still perched on his head, worrying a cigarette enough to break down the paper. It was the smaller Agrii darting around each other with their sparklers that got him to smile, looking less restless as he watched them with a kind of absent tenderness that was surprised into a proper grin as one used him as an obstacle to briefly hide around in the incomprehensible chase game they were engaged in. It faded as quickly as the kid went running away again, and Tony was almost settled back into his pattern of restless tension when he heard Mini's shout.

He squinted through the smoke of the sparklers and glitter of the decorations, watchful as the little construct worked himself up, but Reeve didn't seem terribly bothered. In fact, he looked very calm as he searched his gift box, and then brought out...a rifle. Tony wasn't about to start fretting like Mini, but he couldn't help a raised eyebrow, and was walking before he had given it much thought.

By the time he was approaching, Reeve was already stripping the gun like he'd had the practice, which kept Tony's eyebrows up. "It's certainly more reliable," he had to acknowledge, overriding the question that was clearly in his face. He couldn't pass up the chance to remind anyone that magic was nonsense.

That Mini's outburst should draw someone was truly no shock to Reeve. That it was Tony with such a line only earns a chuckle as Reeve removes the barrel to inspect it.

"Given I hear a particular hero helped bring a pending end to the storms, my magic shall be growing far more reliable soon," Reeve countered. "But this is useful when I'm drained. And is a more obvious presence that some people from non-magical worlds will respect more."

He considers the barrel, deems it fit enough, and finally looks up to Tony.

"Of course I haven't had a chance to shoot in years, so no doubt my skills are a touch rusty."

York elbows Mini gently, a shit-eating grin on his face. Usually that meant he was up to no good. Maybe because it was the holidays, he'd be on his better behavior. "Damn right he needs us. And why the hell are you paving too many roads now? You need me to find out the chemical formula for chloroform?"

Someone doesn't entirely look pleased at the news of Reeve not getting enough sleep.

For now the shoes are enough of a distraction. York doesn't touch them, not eager to find out if magic and technology mingle well. "Huh, that sounds... kinda cool. Would be cooler if they fit over your regular shoes so you could wear them in the winter, too. Get to the replicator for coffee faster."

"I feel like, with everything they can do, wouldn't they just send away the troublemakers?" Keith asked. "If whoever's doing this is still around, then... I don't know. Either they legit can't do it on their own, or... they don't want to..." Which was a disturbing thought. "I mean, they did try once, and it didn't work. Something intervened.

"I don't think they're as in control as some people might think."

"I expect there would be debate upon whom the troublemakers are," Reeve points out. "And where would they send them? They know no other place than this. They are a small people, connected to each other. Everyone here must be related to some degree."

So he doubted they would want them gone.

Though he sighs at the reminder of the Atroma. Reeve had been here back then, and the memory was upsetting.

"I have suspected as much since we saved them here. There are strings being pulled."

"Stress," Mini explains for Reeve. Because of course Reeve handled stress by working. The guy didn't know how to relax at all.

"Traitor," Reeve sighs at the cat before setting the shoes back into their box. He would have to figure out what to do with them. "And they often do. My friends would use them on their adventure. Perhaps I will adapt them for Mini so he can keep up better. Though I am trying to reduce my coffee intake, due to Richie's stress."

"If they could send them back where they came from..." But, then... if they could that, they could do that for everyone, right? And that would just be a whole other point of contention. Keith shook his head, realizing how his words sounded after he'd said them.

He nodded. A few of them had been around still back then.

"Then again, was that still the Atroma?" Keith asked. "I feel like the Atroma haven't been in charge of anything in a long time. They weren't in control of the Fleet towards the end when we broke free of it. It was something else."

Looking from Mini to Reeve, York doesn't look impressed. "One, I'm not hearing a no about finding the chemical formula for chloroform here, and two don't call my bro a traitor, that's mean Reeve."

He does look at the shoes as they're put back into their box. Despite how out of season they are, the sandals are nice looking. If he as a fashion kind of android, York might try to wear them. They would suit Reeve better.

"Yeah, you stressing out just makes Richie stress out more, which puts you two in an endless loop. I know saying 'don't do that' doesn't make the problem go away, but Reeve. Don't do that. We don't need you being taken to the hospital because you've put yourself into cardiac arrest."

Maybe Tony could take a sideways compliment with no grace whatsoever, but it was more important to him to twist his mouth skeptically at the suggestion that there was a 'more reliable' version of any kind of magic. "Kind of counter-intuitive..." he started to mutter through his teeth, not quite baiting an argument, just unable to let it go. He was more directly engaged as Reeve continued, looking inquisitive again, once to glance around for those 'people from non-magical worlds' that Reeve might have been referring to, then at the expertly disassembled weapon.

For the latter, he did directly challenge, "Look polished to me," but it was quick, not quite giving Reeve the room to counter before Tony was already continuing, "You think you're not getting enough respect around here?" Non-magical worlds were hard to imagine. Harder still was someone without that experience watching someone fart out a fireball and not being a little impressed.

Indeed. Keith had come upon the same idea that Reeve had in the past. Everyone here seems rather limited. Because of the lies given to the Agrii and passed along to them.

"I don't know much of the history of your Fleet. But there is definitely some force pulling the strings here. And it seems malicious. And like it enjoys punishing us for slights I do not know that we have done them."

"When he is giving away secrets he sort of is," Reeve points out. "You're a son by adoption. He's something else. A part of myself."

"The wiser part, clearly," Mini sighs. "And maybe do that research, York."

"You're both mother hens," Reeve sighs before pulling over his other small package. "And yes, we do put each other in a loop. But we also drive each other crazy if we fret too hard. So sometimes space must be taken. Good relationships understand this. And I am not being taken to the hospital. My heart is quite functional. I had a check up not two weeks ago."

Good thing Reeve was not seeking to raise to an argument in the moment. Tony did not do magic, thus he could not understand. It was fair. Reeve did not make suits of armor that flew, so he didn't really understand them either. That was just how life worked sometimes.

"I am not concerned with respect," Reeve assures his friend with a smile. "I'm just becoming more aware that more visible weapons will be interpreted better as 'I have a means to protect myself' among some parties than glowing crytalization of memory at my wrist."

He lifts a hand and lets his sleeve fall just enough to show off the bracer and the glowing materia at said wrist as if to illustrate.

"And yes, I know my way around a gun. It's just mechanics and physics. It's the aim I need to polish up on. I used to visit the range every week. There were enough threats on my life as an executive at Shinra and as the leader of the WRO that intimate knowledge of how to manage take down shots in a high stress situation was vital to survival. And I'd like to be sure I can still kneecap someone if the situation calls for it."

Tony met the smile with narrowed eyes, not sure what to make of that denial; he wasn't the one that had brought up the respect. "Sure, I mean," he had to agree, flicking his empty hand in a helpless gesture, "a fancy watch like that in New York is basically an invitation to get jumped. Big gun, very different brand. People still tend to go for the watch one, though, more popular choice. Sexier."

The source of the skill made plenty of sense to Tony, though he couldn't agree that most of the engineers he knew could handle a firearm with any confidence, no matter how many advanced physics degrees they had between them, and the c-suite usually relied on a hired professional rather than getting strapped themselves. He had to keep them all convinced he had a bodyguard himself. "Well, I beg your pardon, Trigger, I should have guessed there wasn't anything you couldn't do," he said. "Makes you just the man to figure out what the hell the gun is doing here in the first place."

"I find I've never found much time for 'sexy' watches. I've had a horrible instance of accidentally frying them with too much channeled electricity when testing things, or fire when burning paperwork that annoys me."

Listen, he was justified in burning that paperwork, he swears it. Don't question it. Just accept that burning paperwork is worth it. It's emotionally satisfying too.

"There are plenty of things I can't do. Like tell you the quality of a sword, or save the world back home. But I try and pick up skills where I can. And honestly, I think we have both been in enough board meetings to answer that question."

He nods to the remains of the orange wrapping paper, then off toward an orange token Agrii that Mini has slipped over to speak to. The advantages of being linked with Mini is being able to handle two conversations at once.

"Division in the internal ranks. Like a board meeting with two major factions battling over funding."

As much as Reeve tried to unconvincingly humble his way through the observation with patently outrageously goals, it was never going to work in the first place since he was just going to prove he could do exactly what Tony predicted, too. So far, Reeve was living up to the assessment. Tony lifted his chin, appearing wary to look away from Reeve or his new gift, rolling a slow scan over Mini and his conversation partner and sliding right back to Reeve. "So, what, you're the assassin now?" he asked. "Gone from protecting yourself to the hired gun." The hiring process didn't usually happen right in front of the target. At least, Tony didn't think he'd ever seen Sunset write out the cheque for his neck right in front of him at one of his parties. He did tend to be a little distracted when she was around.

"We're both your sons. You treat us both like we are anyways." Soon he'd have a family photo to prove it, too. York nods to Mini just a little bit, and then puts his focus back on Reeve. "If anything, it should be endearing to know that you've got people that care enough about you to be 'mother hens'," he points out.

But he gets what Reeve is saying about needing space. It wasn't like York didn't need his space either. He'd been doing it less lately, but still liked to roam around while the two humans slept.

"Just because you had a checkup two weeks ago doesn't mean you can't do something to stress you out bad enough to change that."

Keith nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It's definitely in this for something." He frowned, then lowered his volume as he continued. "But what is there to gain from doing what it did to the Agrii in the first place, and then dragging us into it?" Though... "I mean, unless it's the same entity that lost the Fleet or a relative, and is trying to get revenge."

"Now there I can't provide an answer," Reeve says with a shrug. "I am not the one with experience with the Fleet. For that we may need to turn to your own experiences and memories."

As for what it did to the Agrii in the first place? Probably entertainment value. But Reeve can't be certain. For all he knows this is a splinter organization that got sick pleasure out of testing people like Hojo used to do.

"What can you tell me about this entity tied to the fleet?"

"You are both the sons of my heart. He's just also the son of my magic and soul," Reeve points out. There is a difference there, though he supposes it's less one York can understand easily and effectively.

"He's also not the son that can spy on ya mind," Mini points out. "But ah can tell him the secrets."

Reeve, meanwhile, is rolling his eyes in annoyance. Come on, it's not THAT bad, right?

"I eat healthy and I do reasonable amounts of exercise. I'll be fine."

He says as he opens the wrapping paper. And the box in it. The small box with the ring. Which makes him laugh.

"Even more so with this."

"I only make use of weapons to protect myself or others," Reeve corrects. "Perhaps I have been friends with a number of assassins in my life. Actually, a surprisingly large number. But to know such people does not make one such a person themselves."

Or so Reeve hoped. He wanted to be a good person. Then again, many of the assassins he knew could be called 'good' at their core, or by some lens of inspection.

"But I do wonder what they would hire us to attack. Which is what Mini is trying to figure out. Right now all he's getting is that these are to defend ourselves."

Keith gave a small sigh, turning thoughtful.

"It wasn't part of the Atroma," he said. "That was for sure. After the Marsiva was freed, she told us about everything... the singing planets had been ships like her, but she was trapped by this creature, like hijacked.

"It had embedded itself into her core, and infiltrated her systems, corrupting them. Once we destroyed the creature, she was free and everything about the Fleet changed." They had done it. All the songs from the other planets, begging them to help her, to save her. It ended up making sense.

"It was kind of this weird... blob thing. I never did find out what the species was, but it had this ability to mess with your head. Those storms... there was a planet out there that we had been on that had almost the same ones. But, once you were out of the fog, it left this lingering sense of paranoia that wouldn't leave you for several days, at least." That had been a real disturbing one. "A lot of the stuff we did messed with our heads," he said. "And I don't know how much was from the creature, or from the other Atroma-created entities trying to save her."

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Ship Them All Away

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2. Mini's Got A Gun

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