towerofanimus | 001

Entry tags:

001 | Open

Characters: Heine Rammsteiner and you, and yes even you!

Setting: The hallway outside the dorm rooms.

Format: Prose

Summary: Heine has woken up and is taking in his surroundings. He is not pleased.

Warnings: Violence possibly since he may react poorly to anyone crossing his path. Guaranteed swearing at some point because it is Heine.

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Panic was not a response Heine made. Panic was a fool’s reaction and one that got you shot more than it got you to safety. Seconds it took for his body to come under his control again, far too long of a frame for him to be taken away from the wheel. Between a grunt and growl, he pushed himself up and planted his feet on the floor with a slight stagger.

A quick dart of his eyes was enough to gather his new set of clothing with disgust. The white skin suit was far too akin to those uniforms worn in his past, those militarist uniforms being one of the least horrid memories of that place. The other concerning fact was the lack of fabric coving his neck revealing the metal slab at the back base of his neck. Fingers brushed it feeling along the jagged marks and bolts gaining a negative low sigh of aggravation.

The letters nearby were ignored, more from spite than missing them altogether. He was in a strange place without recollection of how he got there drifting what slight pieces of sanity he managed to hold on to take turn straight into paranoia. Into the hallway he went keeping a slow pace and a watchful gaze for anything that looked familiar; the worst things were familiar and recognizable to him.

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Before Heine can leave the dorm room, he may notice a person with blue hair sleeping on a table. He seemed to be napping, but how can anyone be sure of that?

Blue hair was a recognizable trait, even among those genetically tinkered with. There were no other off traits that tipped him off. No horns and animal like ears. He, presumably he, looked normal part from the hair and being far too relaxed for the jarring environment.

"Where the hell am I?"

He had questions and politeness can shove it for what little he carried in being tactful. Between them Heine kept a gap in case his worst fears were right. Those twins had greenish hair, blue was not that much of a jump and the metal collar of their model could be hid easily. He may be a kid, but it did not made him any less dangerous.

The only things of note was the red armband around the boy's left arm and the holstered gun on his right thigh.

Hearing someone, Minato opened one eye before he lifted his head to see the other man. His stoic expression hide most of his surprise, but there's subtle signs. His blue collar can be seen around his neck.

Someone he don't know in this room. Most likely, he's his new room mate.

"...You're in the tower."

"What tower?"

Heine frowned further and crossed his arms in wait. He may have been alert, but enough had already escaped his sight. The gun was only noticed once he turned and armband ignored having no importance to him.

"And the collar?"

The question was added after a pause. Not metal like his or even attached for as he could tell.

"The tower we're in right now."

He can assumed the man didn't read the letter all newcomers get, and continued.

"Everyone brought here get a collar. We also have bi-weekly checkups on them and it's better to leave them alone."

"Aren't towers underground."

That was where he remembered being clear as day. Solid concrete and steel all around him with the scent of filtered air.

"Leave them alone or what?"

"They can be above the ground as well." There's underground floors, but mostly? They're high above the ground.

"You can't take them off, no matter how hard you try."

"Never tried cutting it?"

There had to be a sharp object somewhere, even if some glass had to be broken. Ripping it off did not sound out of plausibility either, but the what if factor of what may be in the collar stopped him. He might regenerate, but acidic liquids would tear through his neck in moments. Least with a sharp cut there would be a clean slide off instead of something far worse.

"There something in these things?"

A hand took to pointing at the collar. There was something in it and maybe this kid knew exactly what from experience of others should it be bad.

"Cannot be cut."

He was careful with a blade, but no chipping. Minato considered using his Personas on it, but it'd be messy. Even with his innate immunities with them.

"There's liquid inside them. They get replaced with new ones during check-ups."

The procedure itself was simple, but Minato have no love for it. Too many memories from the Underworld to make him comfortable with such a thing.

Another collar was nothing something Heine wanted. One was bad enough and it made hiding the one embedded into the base of his neck harder when the time came.

"There's check ups here?"

His lacking tone broke at the question being replaced with concern. Doctors were to be avoided for a number of reasons ranging from past encounters to not wanting people to poke at his man made body.

"Yes. Like I said, check-ups normally means replacing the liquid in the collar."

Maybe it's his lack of trust for them, since he felt vulnerable during them.

"And we have to go for them, no matter what."

Eleanor prowled the Tower as what was now the usual, steps clanking rhythmically as she moved towards the stairs. It was eerie, in how easy the routine had been established, but she refused to pay attention to that. Instead, she concentrated on her meticulous analysis, impassive in the face of it all.

She was curious about the people in the Tower, where they came from and what they were like. She was curious about everything, to be honest, because everything was almost new and interesting. But it didn't change the fact she wanted to escape and the idea was always firmly in place in the back of her brain. Always.

She approaches Heine, her steps slow and almost lethargic, given over all the impression of the suit's weight being overwhelming. There was someone new, there, perhaps she should approach him... though he seemed nervous. Perhaps she should wait for him to notice her first? Eleanor cocked her head to the side for a moment, porthole light still an uneasy green, and spared a moment to argue with herself.

The bewildered expression on Heine's face last for barely a few seconds at the sight of Eleanor and her mechanical suit. Sheltered was not the right word for it, but the outside world and old world for that matter were buried in the backs of everyone's mind making what some consider common sights incredibly rare. The scuba suit was one of those old world things, recognizable from pictures but never actually seen physically.

Given that the sight of her suit was new, he had no reaction for it. What was someone to say or do at the sight of a person like that? Assuming it was even human beneath all that leather and metal. It was not hostile, not at the moment, and luckily for his hesitation.

"You talk?" His voice was rushed and demanding, hands open by his sides should their meeting turn from passive to aggressive. The suit looked too old to be one of his models and the distinctive mask was not present. All and all it looked like a scuba suit made over the top and far out of place where it stood.

Eleanor tilted her head to the side, by now... well, by now used to people reacting that way to her. She supposed she could find it amusing, all things considered. At least rational. She knew what she looked like, and she'd accepted the consequences of wearing the skin of a monster. In some ways, wasn't she the original Big Sister? She was as monstrous as they were, in every way that counted. But she chose not to think about that too often, it wasn't productive.

"I do," she said after a moment, voice muffled behind the helmet, and bobbed her head in a parody of a greeting. "Hello."

It was not the suit, not that much. It was that surrealistic feeling of seeing a scuba looking suit indoors. Far way from deep water, far from any sort of water.

"What's with the suit?" His tongue was bit back from adding more. No need to be sarcastic with strangers much less things that may not actually exist. A pale hand ran across his head ruffling his white hair.

It was ridiculous, but he could not pinch himself awake or be fully convinced that it was a dream or delusion. Too real feeling despite the amount of strangeness that surrounded the moment. Had he fallen out? Blood loss? A hefty hit? He grumbled and reached for his neck to mask the metal bar in the back.

"I have hard time believing that I just woke up here. So what's going on? This some sort of Dali daydream?"

"You must be new," Eleanor mused, bobbing her head again, to nod. "But as far as I know, it is no dream, though I am inclined to understand the feeling. It's more like a cage."

Even with the helmet muffling it, she does a good job of infusing a venomous note to the word cage.

"As for the suit, it's both a habit and a... memento of home, you could say. It does come in handy when things get... unpleasant."

"Cage huh?" The hand resting on his neck fell more lax, but remained in place. "Cage means there's a way out, but I have a clue you don't know where the door is."

Heine was all too familiar with the idea of cages. The better first half of his life was spent in one and now he was looking for a way back in to finish some unresolved business.

"Guards is it? Or something else?" Monstrous mutated beings had been the norm for his childhood and seeing them again unpleasant as it could be.

"No, I don't, but I will." She shrugs then, arms hanging listlessly at her sides. "And then I suppose I will let them know exactly how I feel about cages."

It will involve a lot of fire, yes. She's found she really likes setting things on fire.

"To call them guards would imply they possess a sliver of self-awareness or perhaps self-preservation. No, they are monsters. But from what I've been told, they are perhaps the least of our problems. Whoever put us in this tower seems to have something else in mind for us."

"Make em' squeal for wasting my time." His concern was more with getting out and getting back to business at hand, which was a puzzle all in itself. The hand on his neck finally let go, finger tips gracing the new collar locked onto his neck.

"You mentioned mementos from home, how did you come across them?" Heine was fairly good with his hands if he needed to be, but nothing beat the hold of cold metal and controlling thunder. It managed a gap and kept trouble at a length just where he rather it had stay.

"I'm use to mindless drones. More whack a mole than fighting." The grin was thin, but there enough to showcase its feral glory.

"Then you should be fine, if you are lucky enough to be allowed to keep your weapons," Eleanor shifted her stand, toes pointing inwardly as she studied him. "In the room you woke up, there should have been a pair of letters explaining the ridiculous state of affairs. There should have been a trunk at the feet of your bed, as well. Your belongings would be there, ideally."

Eleanor paused, then tilted her head again, the angle unnatural.

"Clothes as well as weapons, perhaps."

The letters were ignored in a fit of irritation and thinking that no answers would be found in print. At the mention of the room he awoke in, Heine turned his eyes toward the half open door. Weapons, cloths, and belongings; so long his guns were loaded and there he would be fine.

"How long have you been here? Days?"

"Try weeks, instead."

Eleanor rolled her shoulders, irritated.

"It hasn't been particularly bad. But it's still a cage."

"This place can't be that big."

That was the sole reason he could think of why it would take time to get out. No one liked being held captive. No one sane. Heine took to being still and conserve movement instead of moving. Effort for things unneeded, hence his lack of gestures while talking.

"I'm not going to sit around. Going to find a way out."

It was not an invitation, but he would not complain if Eleanor added the help of where no to go. Some of the building had be have been explored. If not by Eleanor, then someone.

"Those weeks I've spent here, have not been by choice." Eleanor shifts her stand again, watching him.

He reacted much like her, she thought, and she appreciated it. Others seemed more... resigned about their fate. Eleanor was not one to resign to anything.

"But I have not been idle. The Tower is of considerable size, and I prefer to have an strategy before attempting anything."

Fate suggested that one's path was set regardless of what they did. He hated to think that way, to be bound in any manner or told what to do. All his youth had been spent that way and he was not about to let the rest of his life be someone else's choosing.

"Make a way out."

Action was chosen above strategy when it came to how to approach issues. Being a weapon and nearly indestructible took much of the worry away and his opponents rarely planned ahead either. Thinking took time and that was a grave sin for someone like him. Every moment counted and thinking was time spent being too idle.

"Oh, I intend to."

Eleanor shrugged. For her, determination and careful planning yielded the best results, even when the odds were impossibly stacked against her. She was a cautious creature, but now that she had nothing left to lose and everything to gain, she was more determined than ever to have things her way.

"But I doubt someone how was capable of bringing us here in the first place would fail to consider they would be facing strong, vocal resistance."

"Always a backup plan for rebellious individuals."

An idea he was far too at home with knowing. Had they known they were being watched that closely underground would they have tried escaping? No, they would have. He would have tried to find a way, falling in the same pit.

"Any luck?"

"I'm still analyzing patterns I've observed."

She tilts her head to the side, frowning behind the helmet.

"Everything around here seems to be about patterns."

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001 | Open

hello dormmate

Hello!

o/

I keep forgetting the collars. haha

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