Fon Master Ion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fragileprophet) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-04-04 12:00 am
fragileprophet) wrote in towerofanimus2013-04-04 12:00 am
the first – somebody take my hand and lead me
Characters: Ion | open
Setting: the stairs around floor eighty-seven| daytime
Format: prose
Summary: Ion wakes up, decides to take a look around, and completely underestimates how exhausting stairs are. Needing to pause in his descent to catch his breath, Ion begins to wonder whether or not he should have just stayed in his room (and is basically regretting his life choices in general).
Warnings: none at the moment
This room was not his own. Ion knew it the moment he opened his eyes, and the immediate revelation left him both disoriented and troubled. He sat up on the unfamiliar bed and looked around at the unfamiliar white walls, an identical, but empty, bed at each of the other three corners. At first, he wondered if this was Mohs’ doing. It wouldn’t be the first time that the Grand Maestro had gone behind his back (not that Ion hadn’t returned the favor, if a tad less maliciously), though Ion had hoped that he had given up on his efforts to start a war between Malkuth and Kimlasca. In any case, the young Fon Master erased the idea from his mind as soon as an idle movement of his hand to his neck acquainted him with a strange metal collar. He tugged at it to no avail. That was when he saw the letters—and as Ion read the brief but explicit contents of the first, his heart sank to the very bottom of his stomach.
The second was much more informative, but no less troubling. And after he had read it in full, Ion took in the room, his dorm, his new home, with new eyes. They fell almost at once upon the trunk mentioned within the second letter, and he was quick to find his robes inside of them. Ion changed back into them from the strange material he had woken up in, took a deep breath, and left his dorm. It seemed silly to just sit around and wait for something to happen—and having done so much sitting in his young life, Ion had always been eager to capitalize on a moment to get on his feet and look around, even if said feet liked to put up an oft-solid protest. But it wasn’t as if a little exercise would kill him, right? And, besides, it seemed much more logical to get to know the Tower by walking through it, instead of simply bypassing most of its contents in the elevator. He’d have other opportunities to use it.
For now, Ion made his way slowly down the hall of Dorm Floor 1 until he found the staircase that could take him nowhere but down. He walked leisurely, cautiously, and with a thoughtfulness swimming around his head. That was at least, for the first ten floors. By the time he had passed twenty floors—looking passively into them but never stepping out of the stairwell—his face was flushed and his lips pale. The boy’s feet ached and shook awkwardly. Somewhere outside of the eighty-seventh floor, Ion gave up. With a sigh, he leaned heavily against the cool wall, then slid down to sit dejectedly upon the step and rest his head on his knees.
It was too late to go back now; if he could get to the next elevator, he’d be fine. Then he could get something to eat in the cafeteria at the bottom of the Tower and maybe get some of his strength back. I’ll just catch my breath a little he told himself, I’m sure it won’t be too much longer until the next elevator. I can manage! Of course, as the insufferably weak Fon Master tried to focus on breathing, it became harder to think of anything other than Auldrant as a lifeless husk, and all its citizens—all his friends—gone.
Setting: the stairs around floor eighty-seven| daytime
Format: prose
Summary: Ion wakes up, decides to take a look around, and completely underestimates how exhausting stairs are. Needing to pause in his descent to catch his breath, Ion begins to wonder whether or not he should have just stayed in his room (and is basically regretting his life choices in general).
Warnings: none at the moment
This room was not his own. Ion knew it the moment he opened his eyes, and the immediate revelation left him both disoriented and troubled. He sat up on the unfamiliar bed and looked around at the unfamiliar white walls, an identical, but empty, bed at each of the other three corners. At first, he wondered if this was Mohs’ doing. It wouldn’t be the first time that the Grand Maestro had gone behind his back (not that Ion hadn’t returned the favor, if a tad less maliciously), though Ion had hoped that he had given up on his efforts to start a war between Malkuth and Kimlasca. In any case, the young Fon Master erased the idea from his mind as soon as an idle movement of his hand to his neck acquainted him with a strange metal collar. He tugged at it to no avail. That was when he saw the letters—and as Ion read the brief but explicit contents of the first, his heart sank to the very bottom of his stomach.
The second was much more informative, but no less troubling. And after he had read it in full, Ion took in the room, his dorm, his new home, with new eyes. They fell almost at once upon the trunk mentioned within the second letter, and he was quick to find his robes inside of them. Ion changed back into them from the strange material he had woken up in, took a deep breath, and left his dorm. It seemed silly to just sit around and wait for something to happen—and having done so much sitting in his young life, Ion had always been eager to capitalize on a moment to get on his feet and look around, even if said feet liked to put up an oft-solid protest. But it wasn’t as if a little exercise would kill him, right? And, besides, it seemed much more logical to get to know the Tower by walking through it, instead of simply bypassing most of its contents in the elevator. He’d have other opportunities to use it.
For now, Ion made his way slowly down the hall of Dorm Floor 1 until he found the staircase that could take him nowhere but down. He walked leisurely, cautiously, and with a thoughtfulness swimming around his head. That was at least, for the first ten floors. By the time he had passed twenty floors—looking passively into them but never stepping out of the stairwell—his face was flushed and his lips pale. The boy’s feet ached and shook awkwardly. Somewhere outside of the eighty-seventh floor, Ion gave up. With a sigh, he leaned heavily against the cool wall, then slid down to sit dejectedly upon the step and rest his head on his knees.
It was too late to go back now; if he could get to the next elevator, he’d be fine. Then he could get something to eat in the cafeteria at the bottom of the Tower and maybe get some of his strength back. I’ll just catch my breath a little he told himself, I’m sure it won’t be too much longer until the next elevator. I can manage! Of course, as the insufferably weak Fon Master tried to focus on breathing, it became harder to think of anything other than Auldrant as a lifeless husk, and all its citizens—all his friends—gone.
no subject
The voice might have startled him, because it seemed to have come from nowhere; Sheba wasn't a master of stealth by any means, but she did make an effort to be light-footed in this part of the Tower. She wouldn't want to attract any monsters by stomping around the place. Sometimes this meant unleashing one of her Djinn so she could become invisible, which of course meant that she had a tendency to flicker into existence in the blink of an eye once the effects wore off.
When Ion looks up, he'll find a short blonde girl crouched in front of him, looking at him with an expression that is quite clearly concern. Her eyes leave his face for only a moment - to look for any telltale signs that he's eaten the poppies. Not finding them, she lets out a small sigh of relief and returns her gaze to him.
no subject
"Yes," he assured unconvincingly, "I'm sorry if I worried you. I'm just a bit tired and need to rest for a moment." Giving a small, quiet laugh, Ion admitted, "in hindsight, I probably should have just taken the elevator, but I thought that walking down to the cafeteria would help me get to know the Tower better."
no subject
She was just glad no monsters had stumbled across the Fon Master just yet; as exhausted as he seems, he'd be easy prey for them. That would definitely be an awful way to end his first day in the Tower.
"I'm on my way to the cafeteria myself, so maybe we can go together," She suggested after a moment. There's safety in numbers, or so they say, and this way she can keep an eye on him if he has to sit down to catch his breath again or some such thing.
no subject
Without being fully conscious of it, Ion toyed with the tuning fork that laid around his neck. Just like it, his staff was designed to carry the symbol of his order. But it felt sort of strange not having it. Even when he didn't always carry it with him, it had always been something readily accessible to him (and also made for a rather good cane).
He smiled a little wider when she made her offer. It sounded out of her way, but at the same time was terribly friendly of her. "That would be wonderful, if it wouldn't be too much trouble for you. I really would appreciate the company...especially in case any monsters decide to come out."
As Ion carefully pulled himself to his feet and tried his hardest not to wobble about dangerously, he realized, "I don't think I caught your name. I'm the Fo--" Ion caught himself, corrected, "I'm Ion."
no subject
"I think whatever comes with you has to fit in the trunk at the end of your bed," Sheba said with a shrug. "A few people have things that look a little bigger, but they didn't have them with them when they arrived." So maybe he could get his staff back, someday. She wasn't sure and she didn't want to outright say it in case she was wrong.
"It's no trouble at all!" The words are accompanied by a smile. "We should all look out for each other in this place. Otherwise, how are we supposed to get out of it?"
She extended a hand to rest on his shoulder and help steady him. He looked almost like he was going to fall - it'd be bad manners for her to just let him! Unfortunately she wasn't exactly big enough to carry him all the way down. "My name is Sheba. It's nice to meet you, Ion."
no subject
It was even easier to keep himself smiling and bright when Sheba reciprocated. "Thank you, Sheba. It's very nice to meet you, as well--you're a kind person." This was something easy to tell. Not only from her friendly disposition, but the ease in which she had offered to help him. "I think I can stand now," he assured.
As comforting as it could be to have someone big and strong to lean on, the small but energetic stride of Sheba encouraging him down the stairs was much easier to fall in step with. It was almost like having Anise with him again. Of course...thinking of Anise only made him think of Auldrant. "Do you really think we can?"
The Fon Master paused before he elaborated. "Get out of here?" And if they could...would there even be anything left to go back to?